


Half a Heart

by AvocadoLove



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Force Soulmates, M/M, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Friendship, Romantic Soulmates, Scary Hakoda, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24316678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvocadoLove/pseuds/AvocadoLove
Summary: It is said that those seeking their soulmates have half of heart, those who bond have the strength of two, and those who lose their partners are better off dead.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 696
Kudos: 2383
Collections: AtLA <25k fics to read





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All blame goes to Muffinlance for a post a few weeks back about captured!Zuko tropes. That led to a convoluted plot idea... and I honestly struggled with it because I have so many WiPs. But it would not leave.
> 
> Basically, this was written mostly using dictation during my lunch breaks. (Imagine some frazzled lady in a work uniform walking around talking to herself about Avatar: The Last Airbender. I have gotten _looks_.) 
> 
> Anyway, please forgive me this incredibly self-indulgent AU.

Ten-year-old Prince Zuko was not the top student in the Royal Academy for boys. He wasn't even in the top three. His grades put him solidly at number four in his class, which meant he had to take his studies very seriously.

The teacher had the entire class on a silent reading exercise. Zuko stared at the scroll laid out in front of him, feet swinging idly under his desk. It wasn't working. He couldn't cram the words inside his head and make them stick.

Covertly, he glanced at the boys sitting in the same row. They had their heads down, studying intently. They had no problems concentrating.

Zuko, though, wanted to be outside. There was a breeze drifting in through the open window, and birds were calling—high and sweet. From his spot in the middle of the room, could see a sliver of pure blue sky.

He sighed, but quietly. The next break was more than an hour away, which was _forever._ Maybe if he said he needed to use the restroom—

There was no warning.

His stomach dropped and a sense of dread washed over him. Shock and horror swamped him like a wave. A pending grief so large and visceral—he couldn't process it all. It was too much.

He knew, he _knew_ that his mother has dead. The invaders had killed her.

Katara wanted to run back into their hut, but through his tears he could see some of what was left of their mother inside. His little sister didn’t need to see this. So he just held onto her... trying to process everything, trying to understand… And the sound their father made didn't even seem to be human anymore and…

Something was forced between his teeth. The terrible taste of medicine flooded his mouth. Zuko swallowed, even though his mind wasn't in the classroom, wailing his grief on the floor--he was curled around his sister listening to their father's terrible broken sounds...

He didn't realize he was drifting away until he was gone.

****

Zuko woke and found Azula by his bedside.

This was usually a cause for alarm. To get up and take a defensive position. But his body felt weirdly heavy, like he had weights attached to his limbs. His eyes were sore as if he had been crying.

What happened?... Had he been sick?

Of course Azula noticed the second he came awake.

"Hi, Zuzu," she said. "Are you still crazy? Everyone says you're crazy now."

"I... what?" The words came out mushy. He licked his dry lips and found the residual taste of a medicinal herb. Was that why everything felt thick and slow? Had someone drugged him?

"You had a breakdown," Azula said with relish. "At school. In front of _everyone_.”

Horror washed through him. And with it, the memories.

"Mom!" he yelped, and the shock burned away enough of the herb so that he could sit up. "Azula, where's Mom? She's okay, right?"

Azula only grinned.

“Everyone saw you carried out screaming and crying like a baby. That must be so embarrassing. I don't think I could bring myself to go back to school, if it was me. I'd rather die."

"Azula!" he snapped, heart racing. “Where is Mom?”

"What is going on in here?" Ursa poked her head into the room and frowned. "Azula, you were supposed to get me when your brother woke up."

Zuko should have been furious at Azula, but at that moment he didn't care. His mom was alive and well. Why was so so sure something bad had happened to her?

_... Black soot falling from the sky, the smell of charred flesh, his father's awful gasping howls..._

Ursa must have seen the look on his face, because she crossed the room in an instant. (And she was looking at him as if he were real and here. He must be _really_ sick.)

"I couldn’t just leave poor Zuzu alone,” Azula was saying, ignored by mother and brother. "He looked so scared and so _weak_. Look, he’s gone all pale. He might be having a relapse." She sounded absolutely gleeful about it.

"Mom..." Zuko let himself be folded into Ursa’s arms, closing his eyes and trying to shut out the terrible memory that was his and yet wasn't. He focused on the scent of flowers from her robes. It didn’t smell like burned bone at all.

Ursa stroked her hand through his hair which was both weird and nice. She never did stuff like this.

“Azula, I need to have a talk with your brother, alone.”

She pouted. “But Mom—”

“ _Now_ , young lady. And if I find you’ve been listening by the door you will be in deep trouble.”

On any other day, Zuko would have laughed at the shocked look on Azula’s face. Mother was never so firm with her. With either of them. She barely spoke to them at all.

Azula stomped her foot but turned and left. The door slammed behind her.

Zuko made himself pull away. “Mom?"

For once Ursa actually looked right at him. Not as if he were a distant stranger, or an actor in a play she was watching. As if they were in the same room. As if she actually cared about her son.

"What happened?" he blurted. "What's wrong with me?"

"The official story is that you had a fit.”

“A… fit?”

“A seizure,” she corrected. “Sometimes that can happen to children when they are ill and feverish.” She favored him with a hard look. “But we both know that isn’t what happened, is it?"

"I don't understand! It hurt so much, and I knew you… you were dead. And Dad..." His throat threatened to close and he couldn't finish. It was too horrible.

"Oh Zuko," Ursa said. "That wasn't your pain. That was your soulmate's."

There was a beat, and then Zuko whispered, "I have a soulmate?"

Everyone knew about soulmates. They were really rare, really _special_. The fiercest Fire Nation soldiers had soulmates because they could draw strength and wisdom from their other half. They healed quicker, lived longer lives.

"Yes." Ursa's eyes took on the distant gaze he was used to seeing. Like she wasn't really talking to him, but someone else. "Sometimes one half of a pair is hurt or very scared, they are able to reach across distance for help."

"I have a soulmate," he breathed, and something warm seemed to unfurl within his chest.

"She will someday be your very best friend in everything,” Ursa said distantly. “She is the other half of your heart."

He could have a friend. A very best friend. Someone who understood and actually liked him.

Zuko didn't have any friends, not even at school. Azula liked to play _games_ , and no one could say no to her. Now, the only parents who would let their children visit were Mai and Ty Lee, and Zuko had heard whispers about their parent’s ambition. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Even the boys at school stopped talking to him. If the princess found out he had a friend… unpleasant things happened to the boy. Zuko was usually blamed because Azula made it clear _worse_ would happen if someone told on her.

_But if I had a soulmate, he would believe me when I told him about Azula... We’d be stronger together than Azula could ever be alone._

Suddenly Ursa's hand clamped down over his wrist. Hard.

"Think about your soulmate, Zuko. She was in so much distress today that she reached out to you for help.”

That was true, but… “I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know I could have helped!" Had he made things worse for his soulmate? He had just shared the pain without trying to heal or share wisdom or whatever soulmates did for one another. Did that make him a bad person? Had his soulmate been disappointed in him?

No, it had just been… pain. He didn’t realize Zuko was with him at all. That was almost _worse_.

And under that growing distress, Zuko realized there was something wrong with Ursa's statement. He didn't know his soulmate's name, but he knew as sure as he knew up from down that his soulmate was _not_ a girl.

"Zuko, listen to me," his mother said urgently. "A part of you loves your soulmate already—”

“Yes, but—”

“—which is why you need to protect her."

His mouth was half-open, ready to correct his mother about his soulmate's gender. He snapped it shut again. "What do you mean?"

"You are a prince, which makes you special. It means that if anyone who wants to hurt or control you, all they have to do is get to her."

Horror flooded through Zuko's veins, like deep sea-ice. "What? But... But..."

"There was an Air Assassin attack on the outer islands this morning." Ursa's grip tightened. "You were screaming in class. She lost her mother, isn't that right?"

He stared at her, tears forming in his eyes at the remembered grief and sorrow. The pain his soulmate must be feeling right now without him to help. "Yes."

"Think about how bad you would feel if she was hurt because of you."

"But, won't the Fire Lord protect—“

Her grip around his wrist tightened into a steel-hard band. He flinched, but for one of the few times in his life, Ursa stared straight at him.

"Listen to me," she hissed. "The Fire Lord has already making preparations to bring families of children who have lost mothers recently. If you love your soulmate, you will lie and point to someone else. Do you understand me, Zuko? No matter how wrong it feels, no matter how much it hurts."

"Mom?" he quavered.

Finally, the grip relaxed. From the ache, he knew he would have a wring of bruises around his wrist. It didn't matter. He stared up at his mother with wide eyes.

She looked away, as if ashamed. "Being part of the royal family requires personal sacrifice, Zuko. I should know."

Zuko knew he wasn't the smartest. He didn't even have friends to distract him and talk to him in class, and he still didn't make top grades. But at that moment, seeing the fresh pain on his mother's face... He knew.

"You have a soulmate, too, don't you?"

"Yes," she said, turning to look off in the distance. "And he isn't your father."

 _What?_ Zuko thought, dumbfounded. He had known he had a soulmate for all of fifteen minutes, but already that thought marrying someone else made him squeamish and it felt WrongWrongWrong….

Abruptly, Ursa seemed to snap into herself. She blinked. "Remember what I said. If you love her, protect her." With that last, curt warning, she rose and walked to the door.

"Mom?" Zuko had so many questions—about his mother, what it all meant, and if there was any way he could reach out and help his soulmate...

But Ursa didn't look back once. The door closed with a click behind her.

****

The candidates for Zuko's soulmate were brought to the place three days later.

Zuko had been kept isolated in his room. The only ones allowed to visit were the servants and his mother. Father, of course, never appeared. But even Azula was kept out. Zuko could hear her raging from down the hall, but for once his mother was firm.

He tried to talk to Ursa about soulmates, but his mother would pretend not to hear him. The one time he tried to speak of it when there was a maid in the room, she pinched him so hard that he stopped.

All he knew for sure was that he wasn’t bonded. That would come later, when they met and were grown up. He wasn’t entirely sure what bonded meant, exactly, only that for now they were… apart.

In quiet moments, he tried to reach inward to find his soulmate. If only he could help or warn him not to come to the palace… but there was nothing. Just his own heart, beating for someone he still had to find.

With his new insight, he wondered if his mother's distant nature was because she was listening for her own soulmate, too.

Why wouldn't his mother's very best friend, the other half of her heart, not be in the palace either? He didn't think she had any grown-up friends among the noble ladies. She didn’t even speak to her own maids, and she was very formal with Father.

Was she trying to protect her soulmate, too?

On the morning of the third day, Zuko was visited by the palace physician and proclaimed to be fit and healthy. He was then dressed by the servants in his best clothing and led down the hall to the royal receiving room.

Mother and Father were there, also dressed in fine robes. Azula stood to their father's side, quiet and watchful, though there was smoldering resentment in her eyes. He didn't know why. _He_ was the one who had been locked in his room for three days whole days while she got to be outside and play.

Then Fire Lord Azulon made his entrance. He strode across the hall, not acknowledging the low bows, and stopped in front of Zuko, studying him. After a moment, he snorted.

"Well, since you are recovered, let's get this over with." Azulon turned towards his guards. "Bring them in."

The wide double doors opened and the guards ushered little huddles of families forward. All had female children within a few years of Zuko's age and were either chaperoned by a father or someone old enough to be a grandparent. All were dressed in clothing indicating they were of fine or noble birth, and every one of them looked scared.

 _Oh no_ , Zuko thought, stomach sinking. These were girls who had lost their mothers recently, maybe even during the recent Air assassin attack.

Of course, the Fire Lord had brought the noble-bred and rich merchants first. Who else would have the soulmate of a prince?

"Look them over, Zuko," Ozai said impatiently. "Tell us who she is."

Inwardly, he cringed. He knew without having to study them that none were his soulmate.

But his mother's warning echoed in his heart, and he knew what he had to do.

Without waiting to consider, he pointed to a girl on the end who looked to be his age. She was unremarkable. A little on the chubby side with glasses. The old man standing with her wore the military rank uniform of a navy admiral.

"Her. That's her. I'm sure."

The Fire Lord flicked his fingers and the guards ushered the other families away, leaving the one belonging to the girl he'd picked out. The girl clutched her grandfather's hand and stared at Zuko in confusion.

"You're certain about this, Prince Zuko?” Azulon asked.

Zuko took a deep breath. "Yes."

Then Azulon gestured again. One of the guards withdrew a sword and stepped towards the girl.

"Wait!" Zuko yelled and would have rushed forward, but found his arm grabbed by Ozai, stopping him. "No! What are you doing?"

The girl screamed and tried to hide behind her grandfather, who made to shield her. But three more guards had unsheathed weapons and were coming at them from all directions.

"No, no, no, please! Fire Lord, stop! Please!" Zuko yelled.

No one listened. The guards raised their swords and the girl shrieked in mortal fear and threw sparks—too panicked for a real firebending move.

A moment before the swords fell, Fire Lord Azulon barked out, "Halt!"

The guards froze, still as statues.

Zuko could have collapsed from relief. He was openly crying again, tugging against his father's grip. Fear had him babbling. “She's not my soulmate. I'm sorry—Don't kill her. I lied. Please…”

"That's enough!" Grabbing Zuko by the shoulders, Ozai shook him so hard he almost lost his balance.

Even Azula looked upset, clinging to Ursa's side. Ursa simply watched on, distant, as if it were a particularly interesting play.

The Fire Lord, meanwhile, studied Zuko with cold amber eyes. "You are not a good liar, boy. Your reactions speak true, and I had to know for certain."

Then the girl's grandfather spoke, his voice quavering. "Fire Lord, whatever we have done to insult you, I beg that I take the punishment. Not my granddaughter."

Azulon turned. "There is no insult, Admiral... Chu, isn't it?"

The man nodded, one arm around his shaking granddaughter. "Yes, Fire Lord. Retired."

The Fire Lord smiled. It was an ugly, skeletal expression. “This is a wondrous day. Your granddaughter is the soulmate of Prince Zuko." Azulon's false smile faded. "Of course, they could never be allowed to bond. The risk to the prince is far too great.“

He gestured again and a covey of red robed Fire Sages melted out of the shadows.

The grandfather seemed to understand before Zuko did. "Please," he said, falling to his knees. "She is my only grandchild."

"And she will be well kept… very well protected. It is good she is a firebender. She will live a useful and productive life, serving within a temple with the Fire Sages. Of course," Azulon added, "she will never leave. She and Prince Zuko will never be allowed to meet again. It is for the good of the Fire Nation."

"No!" the grandfather cried.

The girl wailed and tried to hide behind him, but the Fire Sages closed ranks and pulled her away.

"No, don't do this!" Zuko yelled again, but no one listened to him. They acted as if his reactions were totally normal. He was only begging for his soulmate, of course. This was why such things were done in the Fire Nation when children were young.

He was forced to watch as the girl was torn away from the only family she had left. A girl he had doomed without even knowing her name.

"I'm sorry!" Zuko yelled, knowing it would mean nothing to her. "I'm sorry!"


	2. Chapter 2

Zuko did not return to school.

He was never certain if his fit or “seizure” or whatever had caused such a disturbance that the highly regimented school didn't wish for him to come back, or if his mother had stepped in. Either way, he never set foot in the Academy again.

The first few days after the Fire Sages took the girl away, Zuko did everything he could think of to fix the situation. He told anyone who would listen that she wasn't the right girl. He had been mistaken. She had nothing to do with him.

No one listened. Not the Fire Sages at the Palace Temple, not any of the maids, cooks, guards, or staff. And not his mother. She had retreated back into herself, and acted like he wasn't there at all.

Out of desperation, he appealed to his father. Ozai only sneered and told him to stop being such a child.

Zuko knew that his behavior only cemented in people's minds that the poor girl was his soulmate, but he didn't know what else he could do. This wasn't fair to her. It wasn’t right. Being part of the royal family meant he should have a duty to bring justice to the people, but this was the opposite. And it was all his fault.

Zuko wouldn’t ever admit defeat, but after a few weeks he had to admit that this wasn’t working.

 _When I grow up, I will find a way to set her free_ , he told himself in quiet moments when the guilt and frustration rose up within him.

It was the best he could do. It was the _only_ thing he could do.

Hopefully, when he grew to be as big and scary as Father, the Fire Sages would tell him where the girl was being kept.

One day, he might even find out her name.

****

The weeks marched on and the scandal of Zuko’s soulmate was soon forgotten. Life fell back into a routine. Tutors were hired so he could continue his education in private. His firebending progressed at a slower pace than Azula’s. People with soulmates were supposed to be stronger, smarter, quicker, fitter… but maybe it was only after they bonded, because Zuko’s firebending didn’t improve at all.

Sometimes, Zuko would get flashes of emotion from his soulmate: A brief feeling of hunger, of surprise, excitement, or joy. All fleeting, there and gone again before he could fully catch and keep it.

Each time it happened, Zuko would stop and concentrate on it, try to let his soulmate know that he was here for him. If he was alone, he would press his hand to his heart as if he could hold the connection between them open.

What was happening to his soulmate right now? Was he okay?

It sure seemed like he was hungry and awful lot. It was infuriating. If Zuko knew who he was, he could help… If he could figure out a way to do it in a way so his soulmate wasn't sent away to a Fire Temple.

No how hard he tried, the brief moment of connection always passed, leaving him feeling lonelier than ever.

****

Then, three months after Zuko stopped going to school, a message arrived from the Earth Kingdom. Prince Lu Ten had been killed in battle, and Prince Iroh had abandoned the siege of Ba Sing Se.

It was easily the Fire Nation’s greatest defeat in the last one-hundred years.

Zuko barely had time to grieve over his cousin before his father angered Fire Lord Azulon… And that night, Azula broke into Zuko's rooms and said that their father had agreed to kill him to appease the Fire Lord. Ursa interrupted her teasing, and took Azula away.

That was the last time Zuko saw his mother.

It took him until mid-morning to realize she was gone from the palace. Her rooms were empty, her maids working on polishing already spotless furniture with their heads down. They only muttered, “No, my Prince," when he asked if they knew where she was. Even father ignored him, his back turned away.

"She's gone," Azula said carelessly when at last Zuko went to her.

Zuko clenched his fists. This was the reason he had looked everywhere, spent the entire day searching, before he went to his sister. "I _know_ she's gone. She's nowhere in the palace. Where is she?"

"Who cares?" Mai commented from where she was lounging on the other side of Azula's room. "You're both always complaining about how much she ignores you. Maybe she went back to her old life."

"She wouldn't —" Zuko started, but then caught the direct way Mai was looking at him, as if she were trying to impart a message. Girls were so weird. Why didn't she just come out and say what she meant?

Then it hit him. Oh. Mom had gone after her soulmate. But… what about him and Azula?

"I don't care," Azula said as she aggressively plucked the hair from the top of her doll's head, one strand at a time. "She never liked me much, anyway. The only one she could stand was you, Zuko. Now you have nobody. Oh, I guess except for your soulmate." Pluck. Pluck. "But you'll never see her again, will you?”

It was as if she had punched in right in the chest. He found himself pressing a hand against his heart before he realized what he was doing. "You take that back! That's not true! I'll find —" He choked back the word a second before he blurted ‘ _him_ ’ “—her! You’ll see!”

“Really?" Ty Lee cartwheeled between them, falling into a controlled sitting position. She looked up at Zuko, grinning, with her gray eyes shining. "Are you planning to rescue her from the Fire Sages? Oh, that is so romantic…"

Zuko paused, shocked that she had figured out his plan. Okay, well maybe it wasn't that hard, but he had been careful not to talk about the girl for the last few weeks, and…

All the girls were looking at him. Expecting an answer. Flustered, he snapped, "I don't know! And I don't believe you about Mom, either! She's probably going to be back soon, and then you'll be sorry!”

What everyone would be sorry about, he wasn't quite sure. Turning on his heel, he stomped out of Azula's room.

Their mother had to be around here somewhere, or… or she maybe she left a note? Why hadn’t she said at least said goodbye? She wouldn't just forget all about them because she went back to her soulmate, would she?

****

A week later, Zuko had to admit that his mother was probably not coming back. There was no note. Not even a letter from whereever she went.

She was with her soulmate, her very best friend in the world. She probably didn’t think about her children at all.

A flash of hunger hit him, there and gone again. A reminder that his own soulmate was somewhere out there, but horribly out of reach.

At least Ursa had known where her soulmate was.

Zuko thought he had been alone before. He could always go and talk to his mother even if she didn't always talk back. Azula, too, didn't try her worst tricks when their mother was in the room.

Now there was nothing to stop her.

Nursing a small finger-sized burn on the underside of his wrist, Zuko retreated into his room. The door didn't lock, but he leveraged a chair under the handle.

He raged, throwing his pillows and clothing around like the worst of Azula’s tantrums. He was so, _so_ angry.

Angry with his mother for abandoning them all. Angry at his Father who was Fire Lord now and too busy to see him unless he made an appointment. Angry at Azula for the awful things she always got away with. Angry at the palace staff who let Ursa leave. Angry at his mother’s soulmate who she loved more than her own children.

And most of all, he was angry at his _own_ soulmate.

"You're supposed to help me!" he yelled at himself, pressing a hand to his heart. If his soulmate was any soulmate at all, he could feel Zuko's emotions. Right? Weren’t they supposed to be there for each other?

But there was nothing. For whatever reason, his grief wasn't strong enough reach out and connect to the other half of his heart.

Zuko was alone.

****

Life went on a day at a time, and eventually, like with the girl, Zuko stopped asking about his mother too. Azula got even worse, and there were even weeks where Mai and Ty Lee didn't show for visits. Even their parents’ great ambitions would only allow them to overlook so much.

Zuko was glad for his tutors, now. They couldn't always say no to the princess, but at least Zuko had the excuse of studying to avoid her.

Then, abruptly, uncle Iroh returned to the Fire Nation.

He caused a minor flurry within the palace, because he had been in such disgrace, no expected him to come back at all. But then there he was, looking old and sad and not doing much else but staying within his rooms. His failure at Ba Sing Se had not been officially forgiven or ‘forgotten’. Fire Lord Ozai didn't even issue a welcome back ceremony for him.

A week later, Iroh invited both Zuko and Azula to tea.

Azula didn't bother to show up, and if Zuko had known that was an option, he wouldn't have either. But… tea with uncle Iroh wasn't so bad. A little boring, though. The old man didn't say much. He just stared out at his private gardens in a disconnected way that reminded him a lot of his mother.

Only Iroh wasn't listening for a soulmate that wasn't there. He had lost his only son. Zuko wasn't sure what to say to him. He had formally expressed his grief over Lu Ten’s passing when he first sat for tea… But that didn't seem to be enough.

"Well, Prince Zuko,” Iroh creaked out at last. "You have grown since I last saw you."

He perked up. "I have?"

"Yes. You are at least a head taller. You will favor your father I think.”

Zuko found himself sitting taller in his chair at the praise. "I hope so. Mom said if I eat all my vegetables —" he stopped, remembering. No one spoke about his mother anymore.

There seemed to be understanding in Iroh’s amber eyes. I am sorry to hear about your mother.” There was a delicate pause. "I understand you have a soulmate, as well.”

Zuko shrugged. He had apologized in his heart a hundred times for blaming his soulmate for his mother's disappearance, but he still felt squirmy about it. "Fire Lord Azulon said I wasn't to see her anymore. I don't think father would let me see her, either."

Iroh watched him closely. "No, I don't suppose he would.”

Feeling bold, Zuko said, “Mom and dad weren’t soulmates."

Iroh let out a very heavy sigh and sipped his tea before putting the cup down again. "I am grateful your mother gave the world you and Azula, but… your parent’s relationship was very complicated. It’s not polite to speak of such things.”

Uncle fell silent again.

Zuko drank a large gulp of tea with the hope that if he finished it soon, he would be excused.

Something was creeping up in his heart, like the slow crawl of frost over earth. He didn't recognize it and was unprepared when the connection between himself and his soulmate was blown open, like a broken storm door letting the wind of a hurricane in.

Fear. Grief. Bewilderment. Hurt, both physical and soul-deep. Zuko's own heart spasmed in sympathy.

Distantly, he heard the teacup shatter as it fell from his fingers. He paid no attention. Unlike last time, he knew what was happening. So, instead of fighting it and being swamped over, he embraced the connection. Soulmates were supposed to help each other.

Deep within own being, Zuko reached back.

And suddenly, he was not in his uncle’s private rooms. He was standing in his home — no, his soulmates home? — huddled in a corner and watching his soulmates father pace back and forth. The man was easily as tall as Ozai but dressed in strange furs and blue clothing. He had weeks worth of stubble on his chin and he paced like a rabid polar bear dog, muttering, gesturing to himself. There was horrible emptiness in his blue eyes.

This was a bad, bad day. They had all been bad days since Mom had died, but Dad usually drank himself into oblivion. Today, he had energy.

Today, he was raving and dangerous.

His sister huddled at his back, shivering. His cheek stung, and he didn't think Dad had meant to do it, but he had been raving about Fire Nation soldiers again and gesturing wildly and… He’d just gotten in the way. Dad hadn’t seemed to notice.

Worse, Dad was blocking the door. He had his sister couldn't get out without attracting his attention and he knew, instinctively, that was a very bad idea right now. If only he had a knife or something, he could cut straight through the animal hide walls…

 _I do have my knife_ , Zuko thought, flashing back to the pearl hilted Earth Kingdom dagger. He had taken it with him to Uncle’s room as a show of respect for the gift.

_Who are you?_

His soulmate’s attention flashed to him, and for a confusing second, Zuko was two people again. Both in his uncle’s quarters—Uncle gripping his shoulders and calling his name—and the boy is the hut with the deranged father.

 _You called for me_ , Zuko thought. _You're my soulmate._

A burst of understanding lit between them like the first flower petals of spring opening, like the rapid flicking colors of the aurora across what had been a night dark sky. Wonderment and discovery and burgeoning joy.

 _I'm here for you_ , Zuko thought fiercely. _You’re not alone._

 _I don't know what to do_ , his soulmate thought and Zuko got the impression that this was unusual. His soulmate’s mind was usually a fountain of ideas, but this was his father, and he loved him. That fear and indecision froze him. _If I run, I can get Bato and he can calm Dad down. He's going to hurt himself like this or —_

 _Or me or my sister_ skirted across both their minds.

The fire inside Zuko rose, as did his determination. _Let me help you._

And at that moment, his soulmate’s father turned and looked at him. At _them_. As impossible as it seemed, he must have seen Zuko in his soulmate’s eyes, because he staggered forward, large hands grabbing his shoulders hard. His breath rolled over them, smelling of strong spirits.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Katara let out a whine of fear. "No, Dad, don't!"

Zuko brought up his knife in his—in _their_ —hand. The blade pressed against the soft flesh of the Water Tribe man’s throat.

"You're scaring him," Zuko said, through his soulmate. "And I won't let you hurt him."

The man blinked and let him go, stumbling back.

That was a moment his soulmate had been waiting for. He whipped around, the knife still in his hands. The blade sliced cleanly through the animal hide wall. He pushed Katara through the slit, and then followed, himself. "Go!" he — _they_ — yelled. “Run!"

Katara bolted across the snow, screaming for Bato.

 _We make a great team_ , his soulmate thought. Then, _Hey, where are you going? Don’t leave!_

Zuko felt himself slipping away back into his own body. He fought it, but it was like trying to cling onto a cliff made of ice. No matter how much he climbed, he kept slipping back down.

 _I'll find you_ , Zuko promised. _I'll find you!_

****

Zuko returned back to his body to find his uncle gripping his shoulders. It was so like how the deranged man had done that Zuko flinched back. As he did he realized he was backed against the far wall, in echo of being in the hut.

Iroh seemed to realize that Zuko had returned back into his own mind. His grip relaxed. "Can you hear me, Prince Zuko?”

Oh no. His soulmate was supposed to be safe in the Fire Temple. Secluded where nothing like this would ever happen. How could he explain?

His limbs were trembling so hard, he could barely stand, but his soulmate’s life was at stake. Somehow, Zuko forced himself to stay standing. He glared up at the Dragon of the West. "You can't tell anyone this happened. That's an order from… From your Prince!" he added even though he was unsure if he outranked Uncle or not. Everyone said that Fire Lord Azulon removed Iroh from the succession because of his failure, but… he was still Uncle.

Iroh stared at him, a thousand different emotions flitting behind his amber eyes. Then he nodded once, gravely.

"Sit down, Prince Zuko." He gestured to the opposite corner of the room. The entire tea table they’d been sitting at had been upended.

Zuko sat on the nearest cushion. His teeth chattered and he hugged himself. It had been so _cold_ over there.

Of course it was cold. His soulmate was Water Tribe. And that's why the crazy man had looked so strange, and their home had been a crude hut made of animal skins.

It was all too much to take in right now. Zuko wasn't sure if he should be upset or glad his soulmate was definitely out of reach of the Fire Sages, because… it also meant he was out Zuko’s reach, as well.

_Maybe this is why he's my soulmate. I could rescue him from that horrible place, so he can live in a good, warm land like the Fire Nation with plenty of food and sunlight. And where his father won't be able to scare him anymore, and his sister could get a a top education…_

But he had no idea how. No one was going to let a ten-year-old sail to the Water Tribes, even if he was crown Prince now.

And to which pole? North or south? Ugh, why didn’t he ask?!

He was startled when Iroh pushed a fresh tea cup in his hands.

"Drink," he said.

Zuko had already had an almost entire cup’s worth of tea and he didn't want anymore, but the teacup was warm in his chilled hands, and the smell was spicy and inviting. He sipped and felt his insides melt a little. His tremors eased.

He looked up to find his uncle watching him.

"That poor girl was not your soulmate, was she?"

Zuko knew he had to deny it, but shame and guilt overwhelmed him… The memory of her screams as she was pulled away from her grandfather. He looked down, his eyes burning.

To his surprise, his uncle rested a hand on his shoulder. "That was a very hard thing you had to do."

It was the kindness and understanding in his voice that did it.

Zuko broke. He wept, and his uncle pulled him into a hug, and the story came out. Not the whole truth of it for Zuko would never, _ever_ put his soulmate in danger. He kept the secret of his soulmate’s gender and the fact that he was Water Tribe sealed tightly within his heart. But between shuddering sobs, he told Iroh the rest: what his mother told him to do, and how he had condemned an innocent to protect the other half of his heart.

At last, Zuko pulled himself together. He leaned back from Uncle, wiping at his eyes, feeling worn to the bone. He hadn't cried like that from before his mother disappeared.

Iroh leaned back as well. His eyes were red although there were no tears on his face.

“Prince Zuko, I know I have been gone for much of your life, and you do not know me well, but I swear to you that you can trust me. I have my ways and connections. If your soulmate is in danger, I may be able to help."

"She's not," he muttered into his now cold tea. He had seen enough of Azula's lying to know he had to stick with the story no matter what. "Her father is… Her parents were soulmated, and her father is maddened by grief. She's scared."

There was a pause. "I see." The hand fell from his shoulder. "You should know that until your bond develops an equilibrium, an incident like this may happen again. In fact, it is almost certain.“

Zuko looked up, shocked. "What do I do?"

"I believe," Uncle said, "you are in need of a firebending teacher. I can fulfill that role. It will give me something to fill my days, and I can cover for you if your soulmate reaches for you again.”

Zuko wasn't sure if this was a good thing or bad thing. It felt like the world was spinning around him. There is so much to take in: His Water Tribe soulmate, if he should trust his uncle and how far, if this was some sort of trap…

But Uncle regarded him with kind eyes. Eyes that reminded him of his mother, when she was at her most present.

Zuko decided to trust. He didn't have much choice. He bowed as best he could from a sitting position.

"Thank you, Uncle."


	3. Chapter 3

The day that Sokka's mother died was a blur.

Thinking back on it, he would realize that something fundamental had changed within him, but at the time it was overshadowed by how his world had shattered. The Fire Nation had taken his mother away from him.

But Sokka was going to grow up to be a fierce warrior of the Southern Water Tribe. He was also a big brother, so it was up to him to take care of Katara. To make sure she didn't fall apart the way that Dad had.

Hakoda and Kya had been soulmates. In the Southern Water Tribe’s tiny, isolated population, they had found each other immediately and had been joined at the hip practically since they could walk and talk. Now, for the first time, Hakoda was alone.

Sokka and his sister stayed at Bato's hut for the first couple of weeks after the Fire Nation invasion. Their grandmother stayed with Hakoda, spooning broth into his mouth from a bowl as if he were a young child. From the snatches of conversation he caught from the adults, Sokka understood that most expected Hakoda to go out on a long hunt and never come back. The other half of his heart had died. It was cruel to see him linger on.

 _But what about us?_ Sokka thought. _Me and Katara are his kids. He loves us and we love him. Why can’t he stay for us?_

Absently, Sokka pressed his hand against his heart, half aware of looking for comfort he could not name.

Then, the first time he saw his father after Mom had died… Well… He would never, _ever_ tell Katara, but he understood, a little, what people were talking about.

Hakoda sat across the fire with a heavy fur draped over his shoulders. Unshaven and gaunt, he stared unflinchingly into the fire. His blue eyes were empty. He didn't react when Katara threw her arms around him. He did not speak. He didn’t seem to notice them at all.

But his father never did go out for that long hunt. Little by little, he became aware of the world again. He began speaking — not to them. He talked to Kya as if she were still there. Or, if he was angry, at Fire Nation soldiers only he could see. He still did not voluntarily eat. Instead, he drank from the tribe’s stores. He lost more weight and his hair thinned.

Katara and Sokka moved back into the hut with their father and grandmother. It was thought that their presence might help anchor Hakoda into reality.

He didn't even notice them.

Sokka was never sure if Hakoda actually saw Katara as a Fire Nation soldier that terrible day, or if he was just yelling in her general direction. He just surged up to his feet out of nowhere, ranting with specs of spittle on the sides of his mouth. Gran-Gran was only supposed to be out for a few minutes to gather food. There was no adult around to calm their father down.

Katara started to cry. Sokka started to yell… and Hakoda yelled back, stalking around the hut with more energy than he’d shown in months, arms swinging wildly. Sokka grabbed Katara’s hand and tried to lead her of the hut, but he couldn’t get out of Hakoda’s way fast enough. His cheek erupted in a blaze of pain and Sokka fell back on his butt. His father had hit him—actually hit him.

Katara helped him stand and together, they backed against the far wall.

Hakoda’s horribly blank eyes were focused on a spot between them as he screamed obscenities into the air. He was blocking the door, looking big and menacing, and for the first time in his life, Sokka was honestly scared of him.

There, huddled, shielding Katara with his cheek ablaze with pain Sokka, instinctively reached out for help.

 _Oh. There he is_ , was Sokka's first startled thought. Here was the person he had been half-looking for all his life without ever knowing it. He had been with him all along, and he was just as overjoyed to find Sokka.

What followed was… A little weird.

His soulmate stepped in to act when Sokka stood frozen, and gave Sokka the opportunity he needed to get himself and Katara way.

At the same time, Sokka was also able to see through his soulmate's eyes. He stood in his hut with his unstable father, but he was also in some weird luxuriously appointed room. A man with amber eyes — his soulmate's uncle? — Gripped his shoulders, repeating, "Prince Zuko, Prince Zuko… Can you hear me?"

Sokka made his escape and felt the tenuous connection slipping away.

 _I'll find you_ , Zuko promised, desperate.

 _You'd better_ , Sokka thought fiercely back, but Zuko was already gone.

He and Katara ran flat out to Bato's hut. Hearing their yells, Bato came out immediately. "What's happened?"

"He’s… having a really bad day," Sokka said, because that was the type of thing the adults said about Hakoda in low tones, when they thought the kids weren’t listening. Plus Dad’s day was probably made worse by the fact that his son had held a knife on him. Oops.

It was only then that Sokka looked down to see the knife still in his hands.

 _This makes no sense_ , he thought but he was also elated because it was tangible proof his soulmate had been with him. He was a strong warrior, just like Sokka was. One day, they would be stronger together.

Hurriedly, Sokka stuffed the dagger deep within his coat pocket. Nine-years-old was almost grown-up but Gran-Gran would take it away if she saw it.

Later that night, safe back in Bato's hut, with Katara falling asleep beside him, he took out the knife to examine it. It was beautiful as well as deadly though the blade was a little dull. Luckily, Sokka knew how to sharpen it.

There was writing etched into the inlay: **Made in the Earth Kingdom.**

The old man had called his soulmate ‘prince’. A prince in one of the Earth Kingdom territories? Sokka wished he could look at a map, but those were stored in the tribe’s Great-House that functioned as the chief’s office, and he was _not_ going in there.

The other side of the dagger’s handle read: **Never give up without a fight.**

Well, Sokka didn't intend to.

****

Hakoda came to see his children three days later.

If anything, he looked even more haggard than before, as if he was held together by sinew and thin-stretched hide. He couldn’t look Katara or Sokka in the eye.

Katara watched him with a sad gaze, hugging her stuffed turtle-seal close. Sokka was wary. Deep in his pockets, his hand clenched around the dagger.

"I have no words," Hakoda began slowly. "For the regret I feel… For how I frightened you two…”

He trailed off and Katara ventured a tentative, “Dad?"

Hakoda shook his head, slow and ponderous as if it weighed a thousand pounds. "You are all I have left of _her_ , and I swear to you that I will do better."

Sokka blinked his tears back and asked, “How?" Because his sister was kind and would forgive easily, but he was a big brother and he had to watch out for her.

"I've stopped drinking," Hakoda replied. "I thought it would dampen the pain, but it didn't help."

"Daddy," Katara said, "I miss her, too."

Hakoda flinched and his hand fell over his heart in the same motion that Sokka recognized in himself.

“None of this has been fair," Hakoda said, “and I’m sorry. I know it will take a long time to make it up to you, but I want to do better. I want us to be a family again."

****

Sokka and Katara slept in Bato's hut again that night, but the next day, Hakoda was up and awake, feeding the polar bear dogs and helping to do minor clean up around their own home.

Katara was openly hopeful, chatting with Gran-Gran and smiling brightly as their father puttered around. She just wanted her family back.

Sokka remained cautious. His dad was the strongest man in the Tribe, but he instinctively knew that the pain of a lost soulmate never went away. Hakoda wasn’t going to get better. He was just learning how to hide it.

Rubbing his knuckles over his heart, Sokka turned away.

****

Now Sokka knew he had a soulmate, part of him wanted to steal a canoe and paddle North. The Earth Kingdom didn’t look that far away on father's maps… but he couldn't leave Katara alone. Besides, Bato’s ship was the fastest in the fleet. As soon as he caught wind Sokka had run off, he’d find him. Stealing Bato’s ship was no good, either. It was too large to be crewed by only one.

Sokka sat on a flat boulder near the water’s edge, watching cold gray-blue water crash up upon the shore and wondering if he should try, anyway. Would the tribe let him go if he learned to ice-dodge early? Men were allowed to leave. Not that anyone did.

"Can I speak to you, son?"

Sokka looked up to see his father standing not too far away. He glanced around before answering, noting there were some adults within sight. So, nodding, he scooted over on the rock.

Hakoda sat, but Sokka noticed there was plenty of room between them.

His father took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize to you, specifically, for scaring you so badly that you reached out to your soulmate."

There was a question embedded within that apology, but Sokka wasn't going to deny having a soulmate. He shrugged.

"So, what's the North Pole like?" Hakoda asked.

Sokka looked up at him, surprise, and Hakoda quirked his lips. It was not a smile. There is zero joy in it, but it was _something_. "I know," Hakoda said, "when you connect with your soulmate like that, you see through her eyes as she sees through yours. Your mother…" His expression abruptly shuttered, and he looked away again.

"He's not from the North Pole," Sokka said quickly, because he had been bursting to tell _someone_. He loved and trusted his dad even though the last few months had been really, really scary. Sokka brought the knife out. "He's gave me this, see? He’s from Earth Kingdom.”

There was no expression on Hakoda's face. No reaction that his son’s soulmate was a boy and not that he wasn’t Water Tribe. Instead, examined the knife, eyebrows going up as he read both sides of the inlay. “This is a fine weapon. I wasn't entirely certain if it was real. He gave you this?"

“Yeah, but I don't know how he did it! Or if it's something he can do again. Like if I get hungry could he send me some seal jerky through some weird mystical soulmate plane of existence? I've been focusing on what I want for dinner, but… nothing yet."

"I think," Hakoda said, again with another twist of his lips that did not reach his empty eyes. “Something like that is reserved for extraordinary circumstances.”

Sokka sighed. “I think so, too.”

Silence fell, and it seemed there were a thousand things to say between them, but neither knew how to say it.

“He's a prince," Sokka added, instinctively wanting his parent to warm up to his soulmate. "So you don't need to worry about me or Katara when we grow up. He says he wants to find me. Maybe if he does, he'll be able to help our tribe out, too.”

He had been thinking about this a lot. The Southern Water Tribe was self-sufficient, but the women were always complaining that they could use Earth Kingdom spices and sewing thread. All the Earth Kingdom goods they had—furniture and tools made of metal— were from before the war and so worn out from the cold and overuse. Sokka just _knew_ his soulmate would help. Surely, he would love the tribe just as Sokka did.

"A prince?" Hakoda asked sharply.

"Prince Zuko," Sokka confirmed. It was the first time he had said the name of his soulmate aloud. He felt a rush of giddiness and fondness and kind felt like he wanted to hug somebody.

That died when he glanced at his father who was looking brittle and strained.

"I… see." Hakoda held up the knife. "May I keep this?

"Why?" Sokka did not want to part with anything from his soulmate.

"I want to bring this to the elders. Someone may know which part of the Earth Kingdom this comes from. They have many lands and many,” he seemed to choke on the next few words, “kings and queens.”

“Oh.” His father was _trying_. It was Sokka's job to meet him halfway. Silently, he apologized to his soulmate. "Okay."

****

The Great-House was the only permanent building the tribe had, built of priceless timber with a foundation of stone that had been laid by earthbenders before the war, it was used for ceremonies and as the chief's office.

Since the Fire Nation raid and Kya's death, Bato had been conducting tribe business on Hakoda’s behalf. He was busying himself with supplies and inventory for the upcoming winter, and did a double-take when Hakoda stepped in.

It broke Bato’s heart every time he laid eyes on his friend. How gaunt and… empty he had become. He had not been certain if Hakoda would live through the passing of his wife, or if he should.

After that terrible event a few days ago, Bato had wondered if it was his duty to put his friend down like a rabid dog. But Hakoda surprised him. Something had crystallized, given him a new purpose. Bato only hoped that purpose was a good thing.

Hakoda's expression was impossible to read and his eyes held only that terrible emptiness of one who had lost their other half. His muscles, though, were tense.

"How'd it go?" Bato asked, wary.

"Sokka is a more forgiving boy than I deserve," Hakoda replied. "But I fear we are cursed."

"What? Why?”

In answer, Hakoda brought his fist down upon the table between them to drive a dagger deep into the wood.

Bato stared at the green and gold etched hilt. The make was unlike anything he had ever seen in the tribe before. Unmistakably Earth Kingdom green and inlaid with some beautiful gold and pearl design. "Is that…"

"I told you it was no hallucination. Sokka was able to briefly connect with his soulmate, who gifted him this dagger. _After_ he held it to my throat.“

"… I wasn't aware such a thing was possible," Bato said carefully. Speaking about soulmates with Hakoda was to swim in very dangerous waters.

"Children don't often know what is and is not possible. Soulmates are able to share thoughts, love, strength…" Hakoda looked away.

Bato made a noncommittal noise and jerked the knife out of the table. "This is very fine Earth Kingdom make." Was that what had Hakoda’s rigging in a twist? That his son’s soulmate was male and not of the Tribe? It was unexpected, but Bato had no doubt Sokka would still grow to be a fine tribesman. He could still earn his place as chief.

“Sokka said the boy’s name is Zuko."

That name sounded familiar, and for a second, Bato could not place it. Then it clicked and he felt the blood drain from his face. "Surely not…"

In answer, Hakoda turned and pulled a message scroll from the files brought in from an air nomad spy who passed news through the tribe to the temple. The lettering was scratchy but Bato knew the contents before Hakoda read it. "Upon the fall of Ba Sing Se’s outer wall, General Chang of the Earth Kingdom surrendered several fine weapons to the Dragon of the West. That dagger is a war prize."

"What are you saying, Hakoda?" Bato demanded. Then repeated louder, more urgent because he loved Sokka as if he were his own son, but to have been cursed with a Fire Nation soulmate — the spirits damned son of the Fire Lord, himself? Well. Parents had been known to put children out of their misery for less. "What are you saying?"

But Hakoda held out his hand. "Peace, Bato. It won’t come to that.”

Only then did Bato realize he had stood in his outrage. Reluctantly, he retook his seat, though his heart jumped in his chest like a scared arctic fox-hare. “You have a plan, don’t you?” Because Hakoda was his friend, brother in all but blood, and his chief. Of course he had a plan.

“I do.” Hakoda balanced the dagger carefully in his fingers as if weighing it. “Those Fire Nation monsters took my wife for me.” His empty eyes met Bato’s. “I won't let them take my son.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eagle-eyed readers might notice I ripped off some OC names from Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn series. Guilty.
> 
> Edit: Also I screwed up and had to delete and reupload this chapter. Apologies if your comment got eaten.

Hakoda returned the dagger back to Sokka the day after borrowing it.

“What did the elders say?” Sokka asked.

A look of confusion flashed in his father’s empty eyes before he replied, “It's as you say. Definitely Earth Kingdom make.”

“I already knew that,” Sokka muttered, returning the knife to his pocket. But he was glad to have the gift from his soulmate back, and even happier to see his father up and about again.

Things became better after that day.

Hakoda seemed… refocused. He stopped rambling to the air, started taking meals with the family, and participated in the tribe.

Eventually, it was determined safe for Sokka and Katara to move back into their hut. To celebrate, Gran-Gran cooked a miniature feast with everybody's favorite food. They ate and talked and even if there was no laughter, there was still comfort and a feeling of growing hope that things would be all right.

Sitting back, Sokka looked at his little family and thought it was almost perfect… except for the two missing people in his heart: His mother and his soulmate.

****

Though Hakoda had lost his soulmate, he had the benefits and strengths of one who had been soul-bonded for decades. He had lost none of the charisma and inner strength that attracted people like a moth to a flame. The tribe was glad to have their Chief back on his feet, and Hakoda led the men on several short expeditions upon their deepwater ships.

Although it was whaling season, they did not hunt. Instead, the men and older boys spent days drilling in preparation for the next Fire Nation attack. Hakoda was certain it would only be a matter of time, and the people trusted him. He had never led them wrong before.

Sokka wanted to learn to fight with the rest of the men, but Hakoda was firm. He was too young.

“But Nunka is only a year older!” Sokka protested.

“When the time is right, you will help the tribe more than you know,” Hakoda replied and said no more.

Then, several weeks later, Hakoda pulled Sokka aside and told him to pack for a long journey.

“Are we going walrus-goose hunting?” he asked hopefully. It was a little early in the season, but his dad had promised to take him when he became a man, and he had just turned ten. That was close enough, right?

Hakoda only looked at him. “No, we’re going to a place only the Chiefs of our tribe have visited.” He paused. “Don’t tell your sister.”

It shamed him, but Sokka felt a twinge of worry. His dad was a lot better than he had been, but he still had bad days. Sometimes he got really, really sad. It became too much effort for him to rise from his bed, or even to speak. And when one of his men made a mistake while drilling to fight the Fire Nation, Hakoda got really angry. Scary angry.

He couldn’t remember the last time his father had laughed.

Now, he was going on a long trip with him. A trip he couldn’t even tell Katara about? What if Sokka made a mistake and Dad got angry at him? What if Dad got really, really sad and didn’t want to get out of his sleeping bag?

Then my soulmate will help me, Sokka remembered and felt instantly better. The other half of his heart would protect Sokka. That’s what soulmates did. That’s why they were so strong.

****

Two days later, Sokka swore to himself that he was never going to complain about cleaning up sled-dog poop again, or fixing canoes, or caring for camel-reindeer. Or anything involving something else doing the traveling for him. Walking all day using just his own two legs was awful. They didn’t even have snowshoes.

Normally, hunting and fishing took place near the coast. They were the Water Tribe for a reason. The sea was the bringer of life, of tides and weather, and food. Away from the ocean stretched the vast plains of the tundra. It was a frozen desert where nothing lived.

Hakoda would not answer any questions about how long this journey would take, or even where they were going. His silence unnerved Sokka. Hunting and fishing trips with his father used to be the best thing in the world. Now Hakoda just trudged on for hours and hours, grim and silent.

Finally, the land rose on an incline which collected deeper snow, which became dry and powdery. Sokka sank up to his hips with every step, and he was forced to stop to rest several times.

Hakoda seemed tireless and waited, standing and silent, for him to rise again.

When they reached the top of the high plateau, Hakoda finally raised his hand to gesture ahead. "Do you see that?"

Sokka squinted. At first, he saw nothing but white stretching on and on in every direction. They were too far inland to even see the ocean. But then… yes there was a little brown along the edge of the horizon.

"Are those rocks?" Sokka asked, confused.

It was spring, but they hadn't had a day warm enough to rise above freezing yet. And that only happened by the edge of the ocean. Here, inland, the land stayed frozen all year. It was a nice day and he constantly had to wipe ice-crystals out of his eyelashes.

So why were there bare rocks?

Hakoda nodded. "There are natural hot water springs and geysers that make the soil so warm, snow can't stick to the ground."

"Really?" He could barely even imagine it. "Then why don't we live there?"

"Because we are people of the water. We need the ocean to live, and the Valley of Hot Springs is too far away to hunt and fish," Hakoda said, tonelessly. "Although in generations past we used it for our dark winter grounds because it would be safe from blizzards."

Sokka was shocked. "Why did we stop?" Winters were hard even to people used to the poles. Sometimes, the dark winter storms would last so long that if a family wasn't properly prepared, they might starve or freeze to death in their own hut.

"Because one hundred years ago the Water Tribes gave the valley to others who needed it more."

Sokka stared at him, eyes wide. "You mean…?"

"Yes." Hakoda didn't smile but deep lines carving his face eased slightly. "That is a secret home of the Air Nomads. Sokka," he rested a hand on his shoulder, "you are my son, and I have made it known I want you to lead the tribe when I am no longer able. This is a secret place that only the Chief and elders know."

"Wow," he whispered, gaze again going to the far distant strip of land. He was amazed, and slightly ashamed that he had thought so poorly of his father. Impulsively, he threw his arms around his waist in a hug.

Hakoda went stiff and made no move to hug him back. “Do you want to meet them?”

Sokka drew back. "Can I?" he breathed.

"I would not have brought you all this way not to see them. Let's go." And with that, Hakoda made his way down the far edge of the plateau.

Sokka hurried after him.

****

Monk Orser, eldest monk of the South Pole Temple, looked out through the wide archway that led to a view of the courtyard beyond. The sounds of children's laughter filled the air. Usually, this was not a cause of alarm.

Today, however, there was a spot of blue within the cluster of yellow novice robes. It seemed as if the children, so recently introduced to each other, had become fast friends with the Water Tribe boy. They were playing a modified game of Hide and Wind.

Orser supposed that would have been a happy sight, too, a hundred years ago. Before the war.

With a sigh, he finished brewing his tea and turned with tray in hand to regard the man sitting at a table before him.

The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe was shockingly changed since the last time Orser saw him. Thin, gaunt, and seemingly aged at least two decades in the space of several months. The man had lost his soulmate. It was amazing he was even alive at all.

"I was sorrowed to hear of the Fire Nation raid upon your tribe, and of your… losses,” Orser said neutrally. What he really wanted to say was, ‘Why have you shattered the sanctity of our secret temple? Why did you bring your child here? Children cannot keep secrets!’ But he was keenly aware the Air Nomads were in the debt to the Southern Water Tribe for this shelter. He could not forget that.

In answer, the Chief tossed back the tea as if he were drinking hard spirits, with no regard either to the heat or the delicate taste. With a clink, he replaced the cup roughly on the tray. “Yes. Our Tribe has suffered many Fire Nation attacks, and not once have we been aided by your people."

Bluntly stated. Orser raised his eyebrow. “Are you requesting restitution?"

He meant it as sarcastic, but Hakoda replied seriously, "I am."

Orser bristled. "Our spies regularly pass information to you. They —"

"— bring us nothing but stories from my world we cannot visit. No, I don’t care for your spies,” Hakoda spat the last word as if it were a curse.

"Then why have you come?”

"My son —" His jaw shut on the next words and tendons suddenly stood out in his neck. He seemed to be struggling with himself, grief naked on his face.

Looking away to give him privacy, Orser glanced back out to the courtyard. The children were still chasing each other, laughing and playing. The Chief’s son appeared to be a happy boy, though there was no hint of bending within him. Not even waterbending.

Surely, that was not what Hakoda wanted. The secrets of energy bending lived within the legendary Avatar. Even though the cycle was supposed to turn to air, he had not been seen in nearly a century.

"My son has a soulmate." Hakoda finally bit out.

Orser turned back to him, puzzled. “A soulmate is a gift from the spirits.” Indeed, the love between soulmates were the reason why Air Nomads had survived the opening salvos of the war. 

Hakoda leaned forward, “A gift, yes. It may also be an opportunity for both our people."

Finally, Orser set down his tea, exasperated. "I'm afraid you're going to have to say what you want out loud. I don't have the mind of a warrior. I cannot begin to grasp what you are hinting at.” This was a lie. He just dearly hoped that the Chief was not thinking what he thought he was thinking.

Hakoda spread his hands open. "Your people teach freedom and detachment. I ask you to teach my son the same — to detach himself from his heart.”

Orser stared at him for a few moments. There was more underneath the Cheif’s words. Something he was not saying. “Who, exactly, is his soulmate?"

"The Prince of the Fire Nation."

Orser took in a breath. No, surely not… But Hakoda's empty eyes were dead serious.

Oh, that poor, poor boy.

Still…

"The bond between soulmates is sacred," Orser said.

"Your original temples were sacred," Hakoda shot back. "My wife, a noncombatant, should have been sacred. Instead, she was murdered in her own home."

"I'm sorry," Orser said, "but what you ask — that level of detachment has only been accomplished by great masters. Airbending masters," he emphasized, “who were soulmated to other airbenders, and who had their full support to free themselves from the chains of this world. I can give him knowledge of the basics, but…“

Hakoda brought his fist down, making the teacups jump. “You’ll give him more than that.”

“The boundaries of their relationship will be up to Sokka and his soulmate,” Orser snapped. “One cannot detach themselves without the full effort and support of the other. You should know this, Chief Hakoda.”

“Trust me, I will give them every reason to separate,” Hakoda’s voice was dark. “Also, Sokka believes he is an Earth Kingdom prince. When he learns the truth… His mother was killed by the Fire Nation. He will never forgive that.”

Him, or you? Orser thought, but it was clear he was not dealing with an entirely rational man. Oh, Hakoda spoke and moved well, but there was something gone within him.

The Chief continued, “As they grow, the bond will call out to them. It is beginning already. Eventually, they will come to know everything in each other's hearts. Then, there will be no secrets between them." He looked around the room, meaningfully.

Orser stared back, hardly believing he was hearing the veiled threat. The Air Nomads and the Water Tribes had been good neighbors for over a century. The Water Tribe sheltered the nomads within the interior of their territory, and in return the nomads brought news from the war and funneled rare supplies and herbs through the Chief and Cheiftess to help in the lean winter months.

… But now the Tribes were led by a man without a heart.

"Unless you teach my son to detach," Hakoda continued, patient is any hunter, “The last of your people will be in grave danger.”

"You plan on killing the Fire Nation Prince. Your son’s own soulmate.”

Hakoda's lips curled into what should have been a smile. "Not until we have a peace treaty extending to our waters, not until I have personally squeezed every drop of pain from the Fire Nation, and not until I'm satisfied my wife has been avenged.”

Orser forced himself to take a calming breath. “What you’re asking for… what you’re planning to do is monstrous."

Hakoda stood, signaling the end of the interview. Perhaps he sensed Orser's reluctant agreement. More likely, he'd already decided the Monk would give in and was just going through the motions of pretending he had a choice. After all, the Air Nomads were one-hundred years deep in their debt to the Southern Water Tribe for hiding and sheltering them.

They both knew it.

At the archway, Hakoda turned back to call over his shoulder, “Make sure my son has the tools he needs to survive.”

****

"Dad!” Sokka yelled as soon as the men left temple meeting room. He came running up at them like a lone blue fish a school of yellow and orange. “Melaan says I can ride on her bison calf. Can I? She says it’s for endurance training because I'm really heavy, but in a good way."

Orser smiled to himself. Airbenders, especially boys before puberty, were built like slim willow stems. This young Water Tribe boy had much growing to do if he was to reach his father’s size, but was already built with a solid foundation.

Orser glanced over, half-expecting to see fatherly pride in Hakoda's face. There was... nothing. His eyes were as empty as the unending tundra. But even the tundra held life in hidden places.

Hakoda did not react to the boy’s question. Instead, he knelt down to his level. "Sokka, you will be staying here to learn from the Air Nomads."

The boy’s expression dropped. "What do you mean?"

"They have things to teach you about managing the connection between yourself and your soulmate. I want you to learn everything that you can.”

Sokka's cheeks flushed. He looked out to the distant snow, to the direction of his far off Tribe, and back. "But what about Katara? I can come back home, right? This isn't forever?… Right?”

The boy was desperately looking for comfort and he was not going to receive it from his father.

Orser stepped forward. Air Nomads knew all homes were temporary, but he doubted this boy had ever left his own tribe for more than a few nights at a time. "If you are a diligent student, it will not take long to master the fundimentals.” He smiled down. "And yes, you may ride on Melaan's bison, if an older novice or master accompanies you."

He might as well not have spoken at all. Sokka looked back at his father. “But what about Katara?"

"If she has a soulmate, she will come here as well.”

Orser had to press his lips together to keep the irritation off his face, but at last Hakoda seemed to understand that his son was upset. He stiffly patted the boy’s shoulder.

"Learn everything you can. When it is time, I will return for you."

"Oo-okay." To his credit, his voice only wobbled a little.

Standing, Hakoda gave a rictus of a smile. Then, with no more words or assurances, he turned to march off into the horizon.

The boy watched his father go, confused and hurt. Orser took charge, guiding I’m back to the temple steps. "Come inside, Sokka. Nun Diki makes a wonderful hot drink from Earth Kingdom chocolate. I think you will like very much.” Perfect for warming stomachs and easing childhood hurts.

He guided the Water Tribe child into the temple complex, and tried not to dwell on the fact that by doing this, he would be complicit in the eventual torture and murder of the boy’s soulmate.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a calm, world building chapter. (Well, calm for this plot at least.) I had to give the boys a good summer. Don't worry, angst-fans. The next two chapters are beasts.

Having Uncle Iroh as his instructor meant a lot of sitting through pai sho games and drinking tea.

At least Zuko got to be outside.

As Uncle studied the game board between them, Zuko looked around the deck of the ship. It was a decommissioned military vessel turned pleasure cruiser, and was currently ferrying them between islands.

After Fire Lord Ozai accepted Iroh as Zuko's primary teacher, Iroh declared that Zuko would need to accompany him away from the palace for intensive firebending training to bring him up to standard. It was a cover story his uncle had thought up to give time for Zuko’s soulbond connection to stabilize.

Ozai accepted at once. It hurt that his father assumed he needed basic firebending training, but what was worse was that he didn't even _bother_ to ask where Iroh would be taking Zuko. Only Azula came to wish him goodbye, and that was mostly to tell him she would be taking his toys while he was gone.

Zuko had been out of the palace before; short trips to Caldera City and to Ember Island back when their family took vacations. He wished they were going to summer in Ember Island now instead of one of the boring North Islands. Apparently, Iroh knew a master he wanted Zuko to meet. Plus, it was going to take two full weeks just to get there.

Iroh wasn’t a bad teacher—didn’t yell or berate like his last firebending instructors. Instead, he had run him through some firebending forms, but only on the basics. Baby stuff that Zuko already knew. He was ready for the more advanced sets, but—

"Do you know the story of the Great Treachery?" Iroh asked.

Guiltily, Zuko snapped his attention back to the pai sho game. Then he frowned at the pieces. He wasn't a very good player, but was sure that several of his tiles had been moved while he had been gazing idly out to sea.

Too bad it would be dishonorable to accuse Uncle of cheating.

"You mean, when disloyal Fire Nation citizens warned the airbender army of Fire Lord Sozin's surprise attack?” he said, slightly annoyed. Did Uncle think he was stupid? Every child knew this story. "Sozin was going to use the Great Comet to stop the war. But because his surprise attack was ruined, it's dragged on for a hundred years."

Iroh hummed under his breath. "Do you know why the Fire Nation was betrayed?"

Was this a trick question? "Because some of the citizens were disloyal. They were traitors. That's what traitors do."

Iroh clucked his tongue and moved a tile forward to capture one of Zuko's own. The way this game was going, Iroh would win soon.Oh well, maybe then they could go back to firebending training or Zuko could go examine some of the rigging out on the deck or question the sailors if they’d been in battles.

"That's not quite what I meant, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said. “Let me rephrase: Did you ever wonder _how_ the Fire Lord was betrayed?"

"You mean… How did the disloyal traitors get the messages to the Air Temples?" He had never thought about it, but the answer seemed obvious. "Message hawks?"

"To all four temples?" Iroh asked mildly. "In such a short amount of time? Sozin's final plans were not released to his generals until a few days before the comet's appearance."

Zuko thought about it as Iroh captured three more pieces, reducing his tile army to scattered chaos across the board. "I don't know," he admitted and wondered if he was going to be in trouble. His old tutors hated it when he came unprepared to a lesson, even if he wasn't aware they are going to be talking about one-hundred-year-old battles today.

But Iroh did not seem angry. Instead, he looked across the pai sho board and said, “When you communicated with your soulmate, how long did that take?"

 _As fast as thought._ "I…" He started and then stopped, stunned, his eyes widening as the implications struck him. “Some of his commanders had Air Nomad soulmates?"

"It was not common, even then, but there was at least one in the high military brass and a few scattered here and there in the ranks. It's your turn to move, Prince Zuko."

Zuko did not care about the game anymore. "Sozin ordered his own people to fight against their soulmates?" The idea was so repellent, he could hardly believe it was possible. "But if they had Fire Nation soulmates, their partners should have lived in the Fire Nation with them."

"Some did, but airbenders are people of freedom and detachment. Some traveled between the temples and their Fire Nation partners." Iroh's amber eyes grew serious. "Fire Lord Sozin never paused to consider that one of his own inner council might hold a higher loyalty than to their nation."

"I'm not disloyal!” Zuko snapped, indignant, and then looked around hurriedly to make sure none of the deckhands were listening. In a low hiss, he added, “And my soulmate isn't, either!”

He was certain of it. His soulmate was good and kind and smart and Zuko's best friend even though they had only bet for a couple minutes mind-to-mind. He would love the Fire Nation just as much as Zuko did.

"Of course," Iroh said. "This was never in question. And naturally in the one hundred years of war, soulmates born between different nations are rare… Except of course in the colonies where there is still some mixing." A significant look that Zuko didn’t quite understand. "But you must know the reason why such things are looked down upon, especially within the royal family, and why having a soulmate who lives outside of the Fire Nation is outlawed."

“Outlawed?” Zuko didn't know that. He felt indignant on behalf of his soulmate. How could the fire Lord outlaw something somebody couldn’t control?

Iroh smiled, gentle and understanding. "I _know_ this does not apply to you, but Sozin's Great Treachery has not been forgotten in one hundred years."

Only later, much later, would Zuko remember that Iroh had called it Sozin's Great Treachery and not the Great Treachery.

At that moment, though, he was too distrusting and wary to read more into what was being said underneath. He sat stiff-backed in his chair and hoped he didn’t look too guilty. “I understand, Uncle. You don't have to worry about me."

****

Sokka had to admit that the nuns had something to their weird, rich, sweet brown drink they called ‘Hot Chocolate’It looked… dubious at first (mostly it was the brown color) but the taste was great.

The ride on the bison calf was even better. He was a bull calf named Pokey and was easily the biggest of his age group. His caretaker was an airbender girl Sokka's age named Melaan,

From high up in the air, Sokka could see miles in any direction. He looked but did not see his father's figure trekking back towards the direction of their tribe. The blue of his jacket camouflaged too well in the deepening ice shadows.

All too soon, Pokey was tiring and they landed back at the Temple.

The airbenders, he learned, were a weird bunch. No one even knew how to hunt because none of them ate meat. They grew their food right out of the ground like he had heard in Earth Kingdom tales. Apparently, the soil here was really acidic due to all the hot geysers. They had had to import soil from other places and now grew vast gardens in the spots where the land was not too hot, and not too cold. What they couldn't grow, they traded with other secret temples.

None of the novices knew where any of the other temples were, or even how many. The adult wouldn’t tell Sokka, either—he’d asked.

Once, every other day, he would see either a full-grown monk or a nun arrive with their bisons loaded down with supplies. They would leave the same way, with fruits and vegetables that the Air Nomad's here were able to grow. That's how they got a little variety in their food without hunting or fishing.

"In the old days, before the war, all the girls and boys lived separately," Melaan said. She had attached herself to Sokka and declared they were going to be friends. She was the type of girl who spilled her life story and ambitions to anyone who would listen, and since Sokka was a new pair of ears, she found him fascinating. 

Her dearest wish, she told him about a half-hour after they’d met, was for her and Pokey to grow big and strong enough work on transport duty, too, ferrying people and supplies to the other secret temples all over the world. That was why she insisted on endurance training for the giant bull calf.

"Don't tell anyone, but my sister says dating is a lot easier this way. It used to be that airbenders would meet up wherever the wind would blow us." She waved her fingers through the air and a gust of wind appeared out of nowhere to ruffle Sokka's hair. "But now things are little more orderly. It’s _boring_ , really. I want to see the world. Especially the warm places."

"Warmer than this?" He didn't even need is jacket at all, though the airbenders all bundled up like it was mid-winter even if it was coming onto summer.

"There are places where it doesn't snow at all," Melaan said and sighed happily, throwing open her arms to the open sky. “I can't wait to see it.”

Air Nomads liked to travel, but Sokka was a tribesman through and through. He didn’t want to travel. He felt homesick.

Perhaps Melaan sensed it too, because she stopped and said, “Do you want to see something really cool?”

That was when she showed him to the lower levels of the temple, a place where heat was pumped from the ground up with pipes and cycled through all the walls above.

Sokka was fascinated. He never would have thought that steam and—what did the monks call it? Geothermic energy?— could be so useful. He would have much rather studied the piping system and learned how it worked, but he was here to learn other things.

The second day after his dad had left him—not abandoned him, he corrected with an inward grimace—Monk Orser came to collect him while Melaan and all the other novices were out learning airbending stuff.

"Walk with me," Orser said and took Sokka to a large if kind of bare outer courtyard. There was a square of sand dug out the middle with some lines raked in geometric patterns. Melaan had told him it was for rock gardening, whatever that was. Not even earthbenders could grow rocks. These people were _so_ weird.

Monk Orser started a slow stroll around the outer perimeter of the courtyard. Sokka matched his pace instinctively.

"What I am to teach you will not be easy," Orser said. "It will take much dedication and contemplation."

He stopped as if waiting for a question, but Sokka scratched under his wolf-tail and shrugged. "It doesn't require bending, does it?" he asked warily. As far as he could tell, every Air Nomad in the temple was also an _airbender_ , which didn't make sense, scientifically. How could everybody be spirit touched?

Orser chuckled. "No, but it does require determination and strength of heart."

Oh. Well, Sokka knew he had those. "What do I do?"

"First, tell me when it would be best for soulmates to keep apart from one another?"

That took him by surprise. His first thought was, ‘ _Never. Being apart is horrible_.’ But then he did think of a situation. "Maybe… when one needs to send messages to another across a distance?"

"I meant emotionally separated."

Sokka screwed up his face in thought. "If…" He started and then stopped. Orser didn't volunteer any information, and they made a slow circuit around the courtyard. Finally, Sokka blurted, “What if I were hiding a birthday present and I wanted to keep it secret?"

Orser smiled gently down at him. "Yes, that is very important. Or if you wanted to surprise your other with freshly baked fruit pies?"

"Yeah." Sokka was warming up to this. "Or if I was carving a walrus tooth — good carvings take forever, but that's okay because I'm a great artist. I would still want to keep to myself until it was ready.”

"What if your soulmate was experiencing the pains of childbirth? Orser asked. "And you had to keep your head to help her through it?"

Sokka felt his cheeks heat up. "Neither of us…"

"Or in battle, perhaps?" Orser said, not skipping a beat. "We are at war. What if one was injured and the other needed to keep fighting?"

Sokka tried not to flinch at that. Thinking of his soulmate in pain made him feel really dark and squirmy inside.

Perhaps the monk noticed his discomfort, because he only walked on, folding his hands into the wide sleeves of his robes. "The Water Tribes tend to treat a soulmate pair as one unit, almost the same person."

"Mom and Dad were like that.” He sighed. “They'd known each other since they were babies. They would finish each other's sentences all the time like they were having the exact same conversation…"

"Yes,” Orser sighed. "But you are not the same person, are you?"

"Well… No. I'm _Sokka_. And… I don't know my soulmate well, yet, but I know I like him."

"We have no soul-bonded pairs within this temple, but there are scrolls and some of the elders have known friends who were soulmated. Some live almost as one being, sharing thoughts and feelings freely. Others are much more independent enjoy traveling and experiencing lives joys separately. You will eventually find your balance, but until then there are techniques to help you maintain your sense of self. This is important in an emergency."

"Kind of like when someone is drowning," Sokka said wisely. "You want to help, but you have to make sure they don't drag you down, too."

"You begin to see," Orser said.

Sokka thought he did. Sorta. But he was also certain without knowing why that his soulmate was _not_ the type to drag him down. Still, he asked, “What do I do?"

"We begin with you identifying which part of you is Sokka and what part of you isn't."

He had an image of drawing a map shaped like the outline of a boy. This finger belong to Sokka this patch of skin over his bellybutton to Zuko…

Seemed easy enough.

****

Uncle Iroh's old master friend turned out to be none other than Piandao, the legendary swordsman who had famously taken out one hundred benders with his blade alone.

Father, Zuko knew, would not approve of him learning swordsmanship. He had often complained that a firebenders only weapon should be his element. But Zuko really, _really_ wanted to learn from a famous master. If he could even be a quarter as good as Piandao…

It felt weird to be defying the fire Lord, but Zuko consoled himself that if Ozai didn't know about the training, he couldn't object. So he "accidentally" kept that fact out of his letters home. That he never received anything back in return made the secret easier to keep.

 _Maybe, if I return back home a master at firebending and swordsmanship, Father won’t be mad_ , he thought.

Then he wondered what his soulmate would think of all this. Did the Water Tribes use swords? He didn't think so. They were rather primitive.

 _So maybe he'll be impressed, too,_ he thought, and felt instantly better. Iroh had not brought up soulmates again since that unsettling conversation on the ship, and Zuko was glad. Every time he thought about it, he got angry.

 _I'm not a traitor_ , he thought fiercely. _And my soulmate isn't either. He's good and honorable. I just know it._

But sword training was not the only secret he was expected to keep.

"These North Islands have quaint customs," Iroh said upon their arrival. "You will find that things are a little slower and relaxed the further away we get from Caldera Island."

"What do you mean?" Zuko asked.

There was a delicate pause. "We brought no guard to accompany us, and while we are safe within Master Piandao’s estate, it would be best if no one knew you are the Prince of the Fire Nation."

"That doesn't make sense," he said. "If I'm not the Prince, who am I supposed to be?"

“You are many things other than a Prince.” Iroh’s voice, normally so placid, had an edge. “You are my nephew, you are a smart and diligent worker, and I am certain one day you will be soulmate to a fine and upstanding young lady.”

Practice kept him from reacting to that last bit. “But—“

The title of Master Piandao’s apprentice carries its own rank and honor in these islands. You will find yourself well respected."

"That's not as good as Prince," Zuko grumbled, but decided he could put up with a little indignity if it meant he could train with Piandao.

Besides, father had yet to name him Crown Prince and official heir to the throne. He was certain it would happen just as soon as he got home and showed him how good at firebending he had gotten. Uncle Iroh said he was progressing well even though they were mostly going over the basics. He supposed he could wait.

He was worried that Piandao would be as stern of a teacher as his old instructors back at the Palace, but… he was a lot like Uncle. Mostly, he talked about poetry, making your own stamp on the world, and ways of reading the battlefield at a glance. For sword-training, he had Zuko spar against his servant, Fat.

Zuko was not the only apprentice, either. There was another boy who came daily to the estate named Renzin. He was a few years older than Zuko, and at first was openly contemptuous about having to train with a younger boy.

That made Zuko angry, and when he got angry, he became determined.

He stayed up all night learning sword stroke basics, and when Fat had the apprentices spar against each other, Zuko knocked Renzin’s sword aside and head-butted him in the chest so hard the other boy fell on his butt

Renzin retaliated with a cool blast of flame, meant to scare rather than burn, but it was still a nasty trick because he had never mentioned he was a firebender. Zuko deflected it contemptuously, and, throwing his sword aside, launched himself at the boy. They got into a scuffle that Fat had to break up.

For their transgressions, they were sent out to go weed the garden together during the hottest part of the day.

"You punch good for a little squirt," Renzin muttered, touching his swelling lip.

Zuko glared back at him out of one good eye. The other one was blackened and also swelling. “Call me a squirt and I’ll punch you again.”

Renzin was fourteen, at least a foot taller, and not at all intimidated by an eleven-year-old. Instead he grinned, easy and open. “Do you think you could teach my little brother to punch like that? He's hopeless."

Zuko decided he would very much like to punch Renzin's brother, too, if they were anything alike. “Fine. Time and place, I’ll be there,” he said and went back to aggressively weeding the garden.

But weirdly, when he came over to Renzin's house for dinner two days later, there was no punching. Renzin's brother, Ruon-Jian was twelve, closer to Zuko’s age, but seemed more interested in entertaining his own friend, Chan. Over a homemade dinner (their mother insisted on cooking her own food rather than having servants do it) Renzin related the fight between himself and Zuko as if it had all been one big joke. Caught flat-footed, Zuko played along.

It wasn't until three days later the Zuko realized he had made a friend. A few friends, really. Renzin, Ruon-Jian, and Chan were nothing like Ty Lee and Mai. Azula would not have approved of them because only Renzin had actual fighting skills—though Renzin’s father was a respected admiral who was currently serving a tour at the Western blockade—but they were fun to be around.

Uncle seemed to approve, too. He would often all but push Zuko out the door so he could “Run out and play with your friends, Nephew. Your young energy is too exhausting to old men like me."

His days soon fell into a pattern. He would rise with the sun to meditate and attend firebending lessons with Uncle, followed by tea and breakfast. Renzin would show up shortly afterward and his sword training would start. Then there would be lessons, poetry, or walks around the estate with Master Piandao where he talked of old battles and the lay of the land. Evenings usually meant dinner at Renzin's house, who only lived a mile away; swordplaying with sticks or learning surfing with him and his brother until the sun went down.

With his days so filled, it took him a while to realize it had been quite a while since he had felt anything from his soulmate.

There had been twinges of exhilaration here and there, but no more hunger. That was good, right?

 _Where are you?_ he wondered. _What are you doing right now? Are you okay?_

He worried about his soulmate sometimes, but there was no one around to ask.

Piandao didn't have a soulmate and he was afraid if he brought soulmates up to again to Uncle, he would somehow figure out that his wasn't Fire Nation and think Zuko was a traitor.

 _I'm here_ , he thought to himself, pressing fingers against his heart. _I'm here if you need me. All you have to do is ask._

And why did it feel like they were more apart than ever?

****

Turned out, there weren't any handy Sokka-shaped maps lying around the temple. Instead, Monk Orser told him he had to do a lot of what he called _‘walking meditation’_ which meant circling around and around and around the boring courtyard doing nothing but thinking.

And not even thinking of anything _interesting_ like geothermal pipes, or how sky-bisons seemed to be able to lift more than their own weight, or how Katara was doing without him… But about what made Sokka, Sokka. And to visualize his soulmate as something else entirely.

Something he would be able to block.

"Some people choose different rooms within the same dwelling," Orser had said. "My soulmate lives here, and I am here. Some choose a vast forest or construct another mental distance between themselves and their soulmate."

"But…" Sokka had to keep himself from fidgeting. "But what if I don't want to?"

"A door can be opened, a chest can be unlocked, a distance crossed. It is not permanent, it is merely creating a barrier if you should ever need it."

Sokka grumbled and kept walking.

It was hard, boring work. Sokka was a man of action. He like to see that things had a consequence and a measurable result. You melt this amount of snow, you get this amount of water. You fish and these spots at these times of the years, and you can probably come home was something. But looking into the ‘inner self’ for hours and hours and hours? Yuck.

Plus, nothing seemed to fit quite right. He tried a large igloo hut equally split down the middle with a barrier of fabric, to canoes at sea (you can tie them together or let them drift apart again). He tried a chest with a lock on it, or imagining a vast snowfield and yelling out to his soulmate…

Nothing felt right.

Monk Orser was no help. He didn't have a soulmate, only scrolls to consult. It occurred to Sokka more than once that he could just _say_ that he figured something out. It wasn't like Orser would ever know the difference. The only one who would ever know was Zuko, and he was out Princing it up in the Earth Kingdom. He wouldn't tell. Sokka knew.

But his father might know.

More than that, Sokka _wanted_ to succeed at this. If he was going to be away from his family, his tribe, and eat tofu three times a day (no Nun Diki, tofu did _not_ take on the taste of the other food around it. It was gummy and gross no matter how she cooked it.) He wanted this to all be for a reason.

Luckily, he wasn't expected to meditate _all_ day. There were still chores to do and the Air Nomads were really big on free time for their novices. Even though he wasn’t one of them, he was still expected to ‘be a child’.

Back at the Tribe, Sokka had only been allowed to goof off when chores were done, and if it wasn’t the busy hunting and fishing season. Air Nomad children were allowed, encouraged, even _expected_ to play. Something about freedom and self-expression and blah blah blah. It was fun, but Sokka wasn't exactly built for airbending games. He got knocked off the pole every time with during airball, and he was pretty lousy at air tag, too. Hide and wind was pretty fun because he could use his brain and find a place to hide the airbenders didn't think of. (They never looked in low places. Go figure.)

But his favorite time, by far, was going out to ride on Pokey with Melaan.

Sometimes she would let Sokka sit on Pokey’s head and steer while she practiced her air gliding. It made him feel like he was master of the world. From up high, he felt like he could see everything.

He could just imagine how good of a hunter he would be if he could locate and stalk herds from above.

Somehow, he didn't think that the peace loving, nonviolent, vegetarian Air Nomads would ever let him have one of their bison to go out hunting.

Sigh. Missed opportunity.

But he was up in the air when he spotted a dot of blue within the vast snow plains, heading straight from the direction of his tribe to the temple. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out to Melaan who was doing loop-de-loops on her glider. "I think my dad’s down there!”

She looked, too and with a gust air that ruffled Sokka's wolf tail, came into land on Pokey’s head. She took the reins and guided him steadily downwards. Landing was apparently a lot trickier than flying.

Sokka had thought that the figure was made small by distance, but as they got closer he realized it was just… small.

Small and was moving oddly on top of the snow as if it were bending the top layer of snow frozen enough to support her weight as she walked forward.

It was Katara.


	6. Chapter 6

“Katara!” Sokka launched himself off the saddle before Pokey had fully landed. That was okay. The snow was soft, and his sister was rushing to him, too. She caught him around the waist in a bone-crushing hug, openly sobbing.

“Katara, what are you doing here? Why are you out alone?” He was struck by a horrible thought. _Please, not another Fire Nation attack…_ “Is the Tribe okay? Gran-Gran? Dad?”

She shook her head and leaned back. Yes, she was crying, but… those were angry tears. “Dad and Gran-Gran wouldn’t tell me where you went. No one would because I wasn’t grown up yet and I hated it and it wasn’t fair!”

“Katara—“

“I had to spy to find out—Dad was giving Gran-Gran orders before he left—”

“Left?”

“All the men sailed off to war, to fight the Fire Nation.”

Sokka staggered.

Yes, he had been at the temple for most of the season, but Dad had said he would come back. By then, Sokka thought for sure he would be old enough to fight with the men.

“He left me behind?” he breathed, feeling like he had been punched.

“They left _all_ of us behind, all the women and children, like… like we weren’t good enough!” Katara wiped fresh, angry tears away with the back of her mittens. “Gran-Gran said you were supposed to stay here, but I can’t stand it. Everyone’s leaving me…”

She burst out into fresh sobs.

Setting aside his own shock, hurt, and anger, Sokka drew his sister in for another hug. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “Maybe you can stay at the temple too. I can’t believe you made it all this way by yourself!”

Katara sniffed. “It wasn’t hard, once I figured out the trick of melting and freezing the top layer of snow. That way I could walk right over the top.”

Sokka glanced back and saw the trail of ice that marked her path.

“You’re a waterbender?” Melaan asked, from a few steps away.

Katara whirled to the other girl, startled as if she had not fully registered the giant sky bison and it’s partner. All her determination and anger had been focused on getting to Sokka. That was Katara all over.

Sokka put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. This is my friend, Melaan, and her sky bison, Pokey.”

“Hi!” Melaan swept forward as if she had been longing to do so since they landed, and had kept herself back by willpower alone. She bowed quickly and then hugged the girl as if they were long-time friends. “There’s no need to cry. You’re here now. It’s warm back at the temple, and the Nuns make great hot chocolate. It’s impossible to be sad with chocolate in your belly! How long have you been out here in the tundra? How did you survive?”

“I… uh, I ran away this morning.”

Sokka’s jaw dropped. It had taken him days to slog across a distance that had taken Katara a single afternoon.

Melaan beamed. “Oh wow, I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be a waterbender. Your element is all around you!” She paused for a half-second, considering. “Well, it’s the same for airbenders, but we would be in _real_ trouble if there was no air around…” As she chattered on, she led Katara to Pokey’s saddle.

“Is he good to carry three?” Sokka asked. “He won’t crash or anything?” Pokey was the biggest calf his age, but he was only half-grown.

Melaan paused long enough to give her bison a quick rub around one nubby horn. “He’ll be fine if we head straight back. Ohhh, Monk Orser is going to have puma-kittens. I guess our super-secret temple isn’t so secret after all, is it?”

For the first time, Katara looked concerned.

Sokka shrugged at her. “They’re pacifists. What’s the worst they can do?”

 _Other than kick us out_ , he added silently to himself.

* * *

To say that Monk Orser was unhappy about yet another Water Tribe visitor to his temple was an understatement. It seemed the moment Pokey touched down with a stranger on board—there was no use hiding Katara. She stuck out as badly as Sokka with her blue anorak—Katara was marched off for an interview with the head Monk and Nun Diki who monitored the novice girls.

 _Well, it was fun while it lasted_ , Sokka thought and went to his own room to pack his few belongings. If Katara was being sent back home, he was going with her.

He tried not to picture what he would return to. If Katara was right, he would be the only man left in the village above toddler age. Did that make him Chief, now? Why didn’t Dad take him to war? Why didn’t he even say goodbye?

That last bit hurt the most. And if Sokka sniffed back a few tears while shoving shirts into a rucksack… well, at least he had the room to himself and no one would know.

To his surprise, he found Katara already out of the interview and in the main courtyard, talking with a couple of younger girl novices. Spotting Sokka, she broke off from her conversation and ran over, eyes alight.

“Sokka! They said I can stay with you!”

“What?” He sat his rucksack down. “But what about Gran-Gran, and the rest of the Tribe?”

“I have to write a note to Gran-Gran to explain where I am. It’s safe since she already knows about the temple—they’re going to get Melaan to fly it over. It’s supposed to be her punishment, but she’s over the moon.”

“But… why?” Something wasn’t adding up. “Why are they letting you stay?”

She shrugged. “They wanted to know how I knew the Temple existed, and I fibbed and told them Dad told me. I think they’re afraid of them.” She giggled.

A year ago, Sokka would have laughed too.

Katara continued, “But Nun Diki says I should be with other benders, even if they’re all air, here. Their library even has some waterbending scrolls. Can you believe it?” She beamed up at him, happier than he had seen her before Mom died.

“Really?” He had seen the library, but between Orser’s lessons and trying to sneak peeks at the geothermal heating system, he hadn’t explored it.

“Yeah! Paalm said she would show me.” She pointed to the girl she’d been chatting with. “But I wanted to wait for you. Can we go see the scrolls? Please?”

Sokka hesitated. He had been all set to leave this place— _someone_ had to be a man of the tribe, and the duty fell to him now, right?

But Dad had told him he had to learn about soulmates, and all Katara ever wanted to do was learn how to waterbend. He couldn’t take that away from her.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

* * *

Sokka had only glanced at the Temple’s library when Melaan had first given him the grand tour. She said it was filled with bending scrolls. Since that didn’t exactly do it for him, he’d ignored it.

Katara was enraptured.

There were a handful of ancient waterbending scrolls the monks and nuns had kept to compare against their own airbending styles. After strict instruction from the nun who served as a librarian to treat the scrolls with respect, Katara was allowed to read them… as long as she didn’t take them outside or practice bending in the library.

That seemed a little unfair to Sokka. These were Water Tribe scrolls and should have been given freely to the last Southern Waterbender. But Katara was too excited to protest, and took them immediately to the nearest table to read. With an eye roll—girls and their reading—Sokka settled in a squishy looking chair next to an ornate wood stove.

The Air Nomads had several of these scattered around the temple. They were antiques, older than even the war, and kept the room warm and toasty (a little too toasty—he had to remove his anorak).

Sokka started to drift off, feeling drained from all the emotions of the day. His unfocused gaze settled again on the wood-stove. It was made of heavy iron, and the door was inlaid with a delicate tracery of golden dragons chasing their tails around and around in an endless circle.

Something in his mind went ‘ding’.

His eyes flew open and he fell out of his chair to kneel by the stove. This close, warmth radiated from it, comforting and familiar, like sitting by the little cook fire at home. The handle was burnished copper, beautifully carved and yet stayed cool enough for him to grip and twist open.

A nest of golden embers lay inside and there was something about that specific shade of yellow-gold… It was like a call to him.

"Sokka?" Katara asked, looking up from her reading desk. "What are you doing?"

He turned to her, grinning. “Visualizing my soulmate."

Looking back, that should have been his first clue.

* * *

His _second_ clue should have been the odd grimace monk Orser made when Sokka told him about the wood-stove.

"It makes sense because when I think of my soulmate, I feel good and warm all inside," Sokka said, flushed with pride. "So, I imagined a door in my mind that looks like the wood-stove in the library—the one with the dragons on it? It’s closed, but I can still feel him on the other side sort of radiating out."

The monk made a noncommittal sound.

"It makes more sense in my head," Sokka admitted. Then he frowned. "But I can't get the door in my mind to open. Is that how I contact my soulmate?"

The airbending master only smiled. “Remember, a door has _two_ sides, Sokka."

"So when we bond—" he had only a vague idea of what that entailed. Monk Orser was not forthcoming, but Sokka figured bonding had something to do with them meeting for the first time, "—he will have a door in his mind, too. Only, it’ll be one that represents _me_."

"That is very likely," Orser said. "Every bond is as unique as the individuals who create it. Each has its own strengths and flexibilities."

Which was a fancy way of saying he didn't know.

That was okay. Sokka had a door firmly fixed in place within his mind.

One day, he would figure out how to open it.

* * *

One of Renzin’s favorite things was surfing, and he was horrified when he learned Zuko didn't know how. They had been at Piandao’s estate for three months. Summer was fading into the shorter days of autumn, and it didn't get as sweltering hot in the northern islands as it did at Caldera Island. Renzin still insisted it was perfect weather for surfing.

The sea was a bit too cold for their liking, so Zuko taught Renzin the breath of fire to warm up. He had recently learned the skill from Iroh, and it made him feel superior and grown-up to teach something to the older boy. In return, Renzin taught him the basics of staying on a surfboard.

Zuko had a good sense of balance which helped him stay on board. He and Renzin were challenging each other to see how far they could ride the incoming waves—there was only one surfboard between them and they had to take turns since Chan and Ruon-Jian had taken their own boards a little way down the beach.

Zuko caught a good wave and had gotten pretty far before the froth caught the back of his board, slowing his momentum. He staggered and pitched off the side, coming up grinning.

Renzin hadn't even noticed. He was looking back towards the beach.

A line of Fire Nation soldiers were marching in a double-line across the beach and down to the surf.

"Wow,” Renzin said, openly envious of their crisp red uniforms and stern professionalism. “Those are the Elite Home Guard. What are they doing here?”

Though he had breathed fire a few minutes ago, Zuko felt cold all the way through. The Elite Home Guard was stationed on Caldera Island.

"I think…" he began and then stopped when one of the guards questioned Chan who immediately turned and pointed their way.

Zuko started paddling in. Renzin followed, but at a more cautious pace.

The soldiers met him as he came out of the surf. They bowed low, one and all.

The Commander was the first to straighten from his bow. “Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord has ordered you return home immediately."

Inwardly, Zuko cringed, and from down the beach Chan yelped, “Did he say ‘prince’?”

The Commander must have caught that, too, because he looked around and barked, “You boys return home at once. Don't make me arrest you for loitering."

Renzin shot Zuko a startled look, but no one with sense argued with military officers. He, Chan, and Ruon-Jian quickly walked away, looking over their shoulders at Zuko, but not slowing down.

Zuko watched his friends leave and tried not to feel hurt. Would he ever see them again? He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

"We are to escort you back to the palace, Prince Zuko,” the Commander said, in a gentle reminder.

His attention snapped back. With it, he felt an invisible weight of responsibility and expectation settle over him like a heavy cloak. He had not realized it was gone until it was weighing him down again. “Of course,” he said, trying to seem mature and intelligent, like Father would expect him to behave. "Has something happened?"

He didn't think it was his imagination: The Commander hesitated. "I cannot say, only that the Fire Lord has ordered you returned to the palace as swiftly as possible.”

 _You’ve already said that,_ Zuko thought. But he nodded, swallowing down his worry, and stepped forward. The guards instantly surrounded him and he was led, still dripping seawater, to the pier at the edge of town.

Uncle was nowhere in sight. Only then did Zuko remember he would be back at Piandao’s estate and would expect Zuko to be having dinner at Renzin's house as usual. He wouldn't know anything was amiss until Zuko didn't show up late into the evening.

He looked at the closest guard. “Please send for General Iroh at once. He should be at the estate of the honorable Master Piandao."

The Commander shook his head. "The Fire Lord was quite clear. There were to be no delays. General Iroh will have to find his own transport back to Caldera Island."

Uncle would _hate_ that. He enjoyed lazing about the estate, playing pai sho with all his old boring friends. It had taken them two solid weeks to get out here and that was when things had been arranged ahead of time. If Uncle missed this military transport, it would take even longer for him to get back.

Zuko was a prince, but he did not outrank the Commander of the home guard. Had no choice except to go with them.

It seemed the Commander was not exaggerating their haste. As soon as he was ushered up the gangplank onto the top deck, the ship's great horn blew and they were pulling away from the pier.

Unlike the river steamer which had brought him here, the _Wani_ was a small but fast military transport with an oversized coal engine. She was tiny, but built for speed. The Fire Lord’s flag allowed them immediate front of the line access through any congested areas.

Onboard the ship, Zuko was given a change of clothes better suited for his station. He tried to conduct himself with the dignity he knew was expected for a prince, but he was anxious. Something was strange, here. Off in a way he felt but could not articulate. He caught himself massaging the spot over his heart.

He wished Uncle were with him. (He wished his soulmate was beside him.)

The guards were professional but kept looking at him oddly as if they are expecting him to behave… differently.

What in the world was going on? Had mother returned? Surely, he would have heard if Father was ill or if the war was going badly. Had Azula done something horrible?

When he caught someone staring, he would glare right back and ask what the matter was. Each time, the man or woman looked away with a quick, “Nothing, my Prince.”

He had no other complaints about the way he was treated. In fact, he was given his own quarters—from the looks of it, the captain himself had been hastily ousted. The bed was comfortable, the sheets crisp and new, but he slept badly.

They arrived back at Caldera just as dawn broke, early even for a firebender to naturally wake. Zuko quickly dressed and walked down the pier. There was no palanquin but a carriage was waiting to take him to the palace.

He was shown through one of the discreet side-entrances normally used for staff. There was no welcoming crowd or anyone else in attendance. It seemed his father had yet to rise for the day.

Zuko had been gone for just under a season, and his rooms were dusty as if the servants hadn't bothered cleaning since the day he left. In fact… they were nowhere to be seen. Luckily, he had gotten used to making-do by himself at Piandao’s estate. Zuko quickly bathed, redressed, and had time for a light breakfast.

Then he was summoned by his father’s manservant.

The servant led him through the main public hallway, called the Hallway of Triumph, which displayed portraits of the previous Fire Lord. Today, every portrait was covered with a black veil, as if the ancient Lords themselves were in mourning. They only did that when one of the royal family had died.

 _Azula?_ No, no, no…

Zuko broke into a run, ignoring the shouts from the servant to behave himself. He didn't care. Forgetting all decorum, he pelted down the Hall of Triumph and took a sharp turn to the main courtyard. Tears blurred his eyes, and he barely registered the fact that there was a crowd of nobles and high ranking military officers gathered, all dressed in white funeral clothing. Zuko's own red and black outfit stood out garishly.

There at the front of the courtyard atop a platform that put him above everyone else, was Fire Lord Ozai along with and a clutch of Fire Sages. A small body swathed in white laid on a high table between them.

Azula stood next to Ozai, also in funeral white, whole and unharmed and alive.

The head Fire Sage, who had been beseeching Agni, paused. People turned to stare at Zuko's abrupt entrance. He didn't care. He looked around, not understanding—this was a funeral, but who was it for? Why wasn't he advised on the ship? Why wasn't he at least warned to dress appropriately?

"Prince Zuko," Ozai's face was unreadable. He looked… pleased? But that didn't make sense either. Father hated it when he made a fool of himself, and interrupting a funeral definitely qualified.

Instead, Ozai gestured him forward.

Zuko hurriedly wiped at his eyes and strode through nobles who all parted for him. He climbed the platform, and to his complete shock, Ozai rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. It was so unexpected that Zuko flinched before he caught himself.

Ozai gazed down at him. “Prince Zuko,” he said again, “Let me be the first to express my condolences for your loss."

“Thank you, Fire Lord,” he said automatically, hiding his confusion.

The moment passed. Dropping his hand, Ozai turned back and gestured for the sage to continue.

“The loss of Aneko,” the Fire Sage intoned, “Has been devastating to the royal family. Taken from us so young, and so tragic of an accident… The crevasse was deep, and her body too small…”

Zuko had been through a funeral before, for Grandfather Azulon, and remembered what was expected of him. Hurriedly, Zuko took his place, kneeling by Azula’s side. As soon as the adults were looking away, he hissed, “Who’s Aneko?” Was this a distant cousin he had forgotten about?

She stared at him. “You don't know?" Then she grinned, the firelight making her look garish. “How could you _not_ know?”

"Azula—!” He stopped, eyes flicking automatically past his sister to the white shrouded body, and it was his sister’s size. Child size.

His stomach felt like it fell through the floor, and a strange buzzing invaded his ears, shutting out the droning Fire Sage. He turned wide eyes to stare fully at that white shroud. The body was the right size of the girl who had been alive and crying last time Zuko had seen her… because of what he had done.

He must have made a noise, a cry of disbelief, because the Fire Sage again stumbled to a halt.

Zuko was standing—when had he stood? And why did it feel like he couldn’t get any air?

He felt every eye in the room on him, like a weight. Reproachful. 

"Zuzu," Azula said into that sudden silence, "How is it possible that you didn't know your own soulmate had died?"

More pieces fell into place, like the jigsaw puzzles Uncle enjoyed when he was not playing pai sho: The odd looks from the soldiers of the home guard, the speed he had been brought back to the palace. Zuko had seen what the death of one's heart did, through the eyes of his own soulmate.

 _They expected me to go crazy_ , _like that Water Tribe man._

His thoughts spun and collided together, soaked with guilt and laced with horror. _The girl, Aneko... If I never said she was mine, she would still be living at her home with her grandfather. She would be safe..._

_She’s dead because of me._

And in the perfect horror of that realization, Zuko instinctively reached out for comfort from the other half of his heart.

His soulmate was with him, as naturally as if he had always been there. As if all Zuko ever had to do was turn around and find him, waiting.

 _Hey, you figured out how to open the door_ , his soulmate said nonsensically.

What had he done? _No, go back. Get away from me! You're in danger!_

The girl, Aneko had died—it was his fault. All his fault…

 _No! Wait, what? But there was no need to explain._ Not between them, when they shared the same headspace like this. In a flash, his soulmate understood. Zuko felt his guilt taken, a burden shared.

 _She died because of me, too,_ his soulmate whispered.

“Prince Zuko.”

His eyes snapped to his father, who stood, frowning. A world had happened inside his head, but only a second or two had passed to the outside. Ozai spoke again, and although his question was to Zuko, his body and voice were turned to the audience. Like an actor at a play.

"Prince Zuko, is that true? Was Aneko your soulmate?"

Zuko stared up at his father, stricken. For Aneko’s sake, at her funeral, he could not continue the lie. “I… I was mistaken. I tried to tell you—”

Ozai’s response was perfectly pitched to carry. “You lied to my Father. You lied to me, your Fire Lord.”

 _Wait… he’s the Fire Lord?_ His soulmate asked, but there was no need to reply.

This close, he clearly felt his soulmate's rising outrage. This was the man who was responsible for his mother's death.

Zuko mentally scrambled. _My mother is gone, too—_

_You’re Fire Nation! You're the reason my dad went to war! He left me behind! It’s because of you guys. Because of you!_

Betrayal, anger, disgust. Too close for Zuko to shut out. He clutched at the spot above his heart, and could only stare as Ozai strode to him, in deliberate, menacing steps. He could not untangle his thoughts from his soulmate’s. He didn’t know if he hated Ozai or was terrified of disappointing him.

“You will be truthful now,” Ozai intoned. “Give me her name and family, Prince Zuko."

 _Zuko, don't!_ His soulmate barked.

 _I'd never._ He loved and feared his father in equal parts, but to give up his soulmate was... unthinkable.

This flashed between them in an instant. Even if his soulmate was repulsed by him (and a part of Zuko shrank inward at that, he wanted to curl up in despair), in this, they were one.

… Even if, weirdly, he couldn’t see anything through his soulmate’s eyes as he had the last time they connected. It was all one way. How was he doing that? And why didn't he know the name of the other half of his heart?

His soulmate’s quick-flash thoughts darted through his mind. _What are Fire Nation names? Wang? That’s Fire Nation, right?_

 _No, it's not! I need a girl’s name._ And he couldn’t give Ozai one. If he did, he might condemn another girl. Indecision froze him. He could only stare up at his father.

"Sapphire!" But it was not him who had spoken. It was his soulmate's own words, though his lips.

“Sapphire,” Ozai repeated.

“Sapphire Fire,” his soulmate said with perfect self-confidence.

Zuko gave him a mental shove. _You are not helping!_

The Head Fire Sage stepped up to Ozai's side, a man with a skeleton face and thin lips. He peered at Zuko with great interest. “She is with you right now, isn't she? I see the look in your eye."

"N-no," Zuko squeaked. It was all him, now.

"And now my son dishonors me again by lying," Ozai said. "This is why we do not tolerate split loyalties in the Fire Nation, Azula."

"Yes, Father," Azula chirped. She looked as pleased as if she had received her solstice day present early.

“Father, I am loyal!" But he could feel his soulmate sneering at the Fire Lord from behind his own eyes, hating him for being responsible in part for his mother's death, for a war that had decimated his people. He felt his soulmate's deep hurt—the hurt of a child who had lost his mother—as if it were his own and a part of him whispered, _Am I really loyal?_

"Then I will give you this one last chance,” Ozai said, again directing his voice not to his son, but to the watching crowd. “Prove your loyalty and call your soulmate here."

His response was instant and absolute. Never. Not even for his father. “I… I can't. She—she lives too far away.”

Azula snickered. "I knew it. What kind of parents would name their kid Sapphire Fire? That sounds like one of those awful colony names.”

"No!" He was Water Tribe, which was so much worse…

_If by worse, you mean 'the best'. At least we're not a bunch of fiery lunatics trying to take over the world. You realize your father had that girl killed, right?_

He couldn’t let himself think about that right now. He just couldn’t.

"Which island, boy?" the Head Sage said.

He could lie. He could point to another girl—no one would know... until she fell down a crevasse, too.

“No. I am not giving her to you,” he said firmly to the Fire Sage. He caught a flash out outrage before he turned to his father, sinking low in a full bow that touched his forehead to the floor before he looked back up. “Father, please, I mean no disrespect. Look what happened to Aneko. I have to… I _must_ keep her safe."

 _I can keep myself safe_ , his soulmate snarked.

“So be it.” Ozai reached out, for a half-second Zuko thought he was about to pet his head like a favored puma-kitten. But his hand wrapped around the base of his phoenix tail. "Then she will have to come to you, if she still wants you. Suffering will be a teacher for you both. Watch carefully, Sapphire, and learn."

And, gripping his hair, he brought a handful of fire to the side of Zuko's face.


	7. Chapter 7

Katara was the first to notice something was wrong.

She, Sokka, and Melaan were snuggled together in the bison saddle, sharing warmth and a flagon of hot chocolate under a warm bison-wool blanket.

Melaan had given Pokey free rein to coast along the sky, and the calf was flying higher and higher with the aid of what Melaan called a thermal. It was a beautiful blue day, so cold it made Katara’s teeth ache if she breathed in too deep. Down far, far below the snow glistened like a cut gem.

She liked the air temple with its funny and friendly airbenders—she liked learning to bend with aid from the scrolls even more (and there was healing! She never knew waterbenders could heal! She was going to be so much help to Gran-Gran when she returned home…) but flying on the bison calves were a lot of fun, too. Easily third best next to being with her brother again. Fourth best, maybe.

Katara took a sip of hot chocolate and then reluctantly passed it to her brother.

Sokka didn't take it. He was staring off into space, his blue eyes blank.

"Sokka?" Leaning forward, she waved one mittened hand in front of his face. He didn't so much as blink. “What’s wrong?”

Melaan glanced over then did a quick double-take. "Don't bother him. He's walking with his soulmate."

"He's... what?"

But the girl hopped up with a cold burst of air, alighting to Pokey's head. At her clucked tongue, the bison exited the thermal and swooped to land on the empty tundra.

Katara turned back to Sokka. He was staring off into space as if seeing something she couldn't. It reminded her of Dad, a little. Except his eyes weren't empty, he just seemed to be looking at something she couldn't see.

Within moments Pokey had landed and Melaan was back. "Here, let's help him down to the ground. Give him space."

"But what's happening?"

"His soulmate has reached for him. Monk Orser told us all that this could happen. His soulmate might be seeing us through his eyes right now." She grinned and waved. "Hi! I'm Melaan, take care of Sokka, okay? Oh, oops, he might not know about airbenders. Well, he's Sokka's soulmate. It's probably okay."

"But is Sokka all right?" Katara insisted.

"He's busy talking is all. Here, help him slide down out of the saddle.”

Within moments they got Sokka to the ground where he just stood, gazing off to space.

Katara frowned. “How long does this last?"

Melaan shrugged. "As long as his soulmate needs him. I thought this happened before?"

She shrugged. The adults never told her anything. She knew Sokka had a soulmate, and that was why he had to live at the temple, but not much more than that. Sokka didn’t talk about it much either.

This seemed like an awfully _long_ conversation, but on the bright side aybe Sokka would be able to tell her more about his soulmate. All she knew was that he was another boy and from the Earth Kingdom. If they ever met, it would be a little like having a second brother.

That might be what they were talking about now, though Sokka was looking a little pale and his lips were pinched…

Suddenly, her brother collapsed to the ground, screaming, with his hands over his face.

"Sokka!" Katara cried.

He did not seem to hear her over his agony. Howling, writhing, he tried to shield his face and shove it into the cold snow at the same time.

Katara stood frozen in shock, but Melaan did not. She threw herself down and wrapped her arms around him from behind, hauling him back up to his knees to keep him from scraping himself raw in the snow. "Close the door!" she yelled in a loud voice that was surely aided by airbending. "Sokka, close the door!"

Katara didn't understand what that meant, but then with a choked-off wheeze, Sokka just… stopped.

She knelt by her brother and tugged his hands down. "Let me see." And although she did not consciously think about it, the snow and ice around her knees puddled into water, ready to be used for healing.

Sokka dropped his hands away from the left side of his face, and… his skin was completely unmarked, although he had been carrying on as if he had been flayed alive. His eyes, though were wide and wild.

"It wasn't me," he said between gasps, shrugging out of Melaan’s grip. His gaze turned inward. Then, “Oh, no… No, no, no. I can't open the door again!”

Melaan look like she was trying not to cry. "You had to do it, Sokka. That's why the monks had you build that door."

They were speaking over her, and she _hated_ that. "What are you two talking about?"

"The door to his heart," Melaan said. "The elders told us about that, too.” She stood. “Katara, stay with your brother. I'm going to get Orser.”

"No!" Sokka yelled, surging up. "You can't. They're hurting him, I have to go back! How do I get back?!”

"Sokka, the Monks and Nuns will know what to do. They will help your soulma—“

“No, they won't. He's Fire Nation."

That stopped both girls short. Katara put her hands to her mouth, horrified.

"I have to go help him. I have to— _stupid_ door!” Sokka gripped his head in his hands. “What’s the point of making the stupid thing if I can’t get it open again?”

"But… he can't be," Katara said, stricken. "The other half of your heart can't be Fire Nation!"

Sokka whipped around to her, fierce as any razor-toothed leopard seal. “He's not like the rest of them! They killed the last person they thought was his soulmate, and when they found out they got it wrong, they asked him for my name." He was breathing hard as if he was running, clenching and unclenching his fists. “But he wouldn’t do it. He let them think I was Fire Nation, too. To keep me safe.” His voice wobbled on the next words. “Now, he thinks—he think’s I hate him, and that girl died… and… and then his father held fire to his face…" He curled in, one fist pressed tightly to his heart.

Katara was crying, partially in sympathy for this poor nameless boy, but mostly because Sokka was rambling just like Hakoda on some of his bad days. If the Fire Nation killed his soulmate, then her brother's heart would die along with him.

Again, Melaan swept in to grip Sokka’s shoulders. "You're hyperventilating. Breathe, Sokka. You can breathe…"

"It's all my fault…” He was openly weeping now in a way she had never seen him do before. “They're going to kill him. I saw in his head. They think—people like us with soulmates outside the Fire Nation are traitors, because soulmates once betrayed the old Fire Lord and let the airbenders go… They’re going to kill him…”

Abruptly, in a rapid change of mood, Sokka pushed Melaan away and started staggering, half-running across the snowfield.

Katara exchanged a shocked look with the other girl. Together, they jogged after him.

"Where are you going?" Katara yelled, rushing to catch up.

Sokka wiped at his face with the sleeve of one arm. “I’m going home.” He looked at her, frantic. "Did any of the men leave anything seaworthy behind?"

"Just the canoes, but—“

"That will have to work."

"You're going to paddle your way to the Fire Nation?"

“I have to. The Fire Lord knew I was there, watching through Zuko's eyes. He said to come and get him. Maybe he’ll trade my life for his."

"No!" both girls cried.

Katara threw her arms around Sokka, bringing him to a halt. “You can’t do that! Don't go! Please!”

“I can't stay here. You don't understand…" He was her strong big brother, but he was trembling with fear and stress. “He’s hurt—he was in so much pain. It’s my fault. I—I have to do something!”

Faced with the thought of losing her brother in a more horrible way than she had lost her mother, and yes, her father, her own heart cried out. 

She felt… a reply. Just for moment, like a sleepy thought. A warm breeze brushed over her mind.

 _Everything will be all right_.

Then, just as quick, _he_ was gone again.

Something lurched inside her chest, and she thought she understood a little bit of what Sokka was going through. Her resolve firmed.

"Then I'm going with you," she said.

For the first time, Sokka’s full attention snapped to her. "No way!”

"You're going to need me. You said your soulmate was hurt, and waterbenders can heal.” She spoke quickly, terrified that any second Sokka could collapse the way Dad had when the firebender had killed Mom. “You don’t have to turn yourself in. Let’s get your soulmate out of there—“

“Katara—“

“And you haven’t even gone ice-dodging yet. You can't sail to the Fire Nation all by yourself. You _need_ me. So there!" She stomped her foot.

"You guys, won’t it take weeks to get to the Fire Nation by water?” Melaan said, for once the voice of reason. “Katara, he's right. You can't go. Sokka, she's right, too. Even if you get back to your tribe and take a canoe, an Air Nomad will see you. The adults are out all the time to watch for Fire Nation patrols. It won’t work.”

Immediately, both siblings flared up at her.

Katara stomped her foot again. “I can _to_ help. I’ve been reading all the waterbending scrolls!”

"I'd like to see you try to stop me—"

Unexpectedly, Melaan grinned. “But, if you fly there on Pokey, you might have a chance. The upper air currents happen to be curling North-West this time of year. Right to the Fire Nation."

“You’d let me take Pokey to the Fire Nation?” Sokka repeated, shocked.

“No, _I’m_ taking you to the Fire Nation,” Melaan corrected. “As if I would miss out on seeing it for myself!” She grinned.

“Me too!” Katara insisted.

Melaan’s smile dropped. “Pokey can’t handle that much weight, yet. It’s going to be hard enough to come back quickly with three people, especially if two of them are heavy boys.”

Katara felt like crying all over again. “That’s not fair. I’m really light. I won’t be any trouble, I promise!”

Sokka shifted from foot-to-foot as if just standing here talking was taking too long for his taste. Then he turned to Katara, “She’s right—Katara, you gotta go bak to the library. Read up on _everything_ the scrolls say on healing. We’ll get back as fast as we can—“

“No, I don’t want to stay behind. What if something happens?”

Suddenly her brother brought her in for a big, crushing hug that more than anything showed her that his heart was still there. “You have the most important job,” he said, drawing back. “You have to go back and stall the monks and nuns, especially Orser. Tell them—” He looked around as if for inspiration. “Tell them me and Melaan are going exploring the tundra and we’ll be back at sunset.”

“Sunset?” Katara frowned. It would take a lot longer than that to get to the Fire Nation and back. Especially on a young bison like Pokey.

A fleeting smile crossed her brother’s face. “Yeah, if it’s too late in the day they might send someone out to get us back early. This way they’ll just be annoyed, and by the time they figure out we’re not coming back at all it’ll already be dark.” Then he turned to Melaan. “Are you sure about this? You’re going to get in awful trouble.”

She shrugged. “It’s been awhile since I was in awful trouble. Plus, all I’ve ever wanted to do was see the world. Only the bravest overfly the Fire Nation. Plus, if your soulmate is a prince he’ll be on the Air Nomad’s side of the war, since you are. It’s a win-win-win!”

 _They were really going to the Fire Nation._ Katara thought about freezing Sokka’s boots to the ground and _making_ him stay here. But he looked desperate, as if he wanted to fly away at that moment. The longer they stood around talking, the more dangerous it was for Sokka’s soulmate, her second brother.

“Okay, I’ll tell Orser you two will will be back later, but please, please be careful.” With effort, she didn’t hug him again, but she wanted to. “If you give yourself up to the Fire Lord… if you get killed, it’ll hurt your soulmate just as bad… and me.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m quick and smart _and_ I have my boomerang.”

“Don’t worry, Katara. I’ll watch over him.” Melaan grinned as if this was all one big adventure.

The two older kids scrambled back up on Pokey’s saddle and with a “Yip-yip” they launched into the sky.

Katara watched them go until Pokey was a little dot along the north-west horizon. Then, wiping her tears away with waterbending, she turned and started walking back to the direction of the temple. It was far, but not much trouble using her waterbending to move faster.

She had to breathe deep to keep more tears from returning. _Please, please Sokka… Be okay…_

She had to pull herself together. Lying to adults was tricky. They might understand if she was upset because she got left behind, but would question it if Katara were too visibly upset.

So, once she got to the temple, she made her steps heavy and let out an audible sigh.

“Katara,” Nun Diki called, “Where is Melaan and your brother? I didn’t see Pokey come into land.”

She scowled. “They went off exploring without me. Said I was too little to come.” She kicked a rock, sending it scudding across the courtyard.

Nun Diki exchanged a look with her friend. “Oh, did they?”

“Yeah, they said they’d be back by sunset and to tell you because I couldn’t come.”

To her surprise, the other nun chuckled. “That girl is barking up the wrong tree. She is aware Sokka has a _male_ soulmate, right?”

Nun Diki frowned. “Melaan can be a flutter-head, but I don’t like those children being out that late.”

“No, let her go. Some must learn the hard way,” her friend advised. “When did they say they would be back, dear? Sunset? Well, I’ll give her extra chores as penance, and it might be best if you have a _conversation_ with her, Diki.”

Katara cocked her head. “About what?”

The two nuns looked down at her and then smiled in a patronizing way.

“You’ll find out when you’re older,” Diki said. “Why don’t you go into the temple? I think the kitchen acolytes could use some help and you have such cleaver fingers, dear.”

Katara sighed heavily and stomped off. When she turned the corner and was safely out of sight, she paused long enough to look up at the sky.

“Good luck,” she whispered. "Come back..."


	8. Chapter 8

The five days it took for Pokey to fly to Fire Nation territory were the worst in Sokka's life. Worse than his mother dying, worse even than his father's darkest, scariest days.

Pokey was a strong bison, but he was only half-grown and didn't have the stamina of an adult. Melaan was not a master and didn't know all the airbending tricks to help him navigate the air currents. Their progress was a slow hop between sub-arctic islands.

All Air Nomads were required to carry basic rations and a map in case they were blown off course. Sokka let Melaan have his portion of the food. Every time he thought about eating, his nose was filled with the phantom smell of burning hair and flesh.

He would never admit it aloud, but now he understood a little why the Air Nomads didn't eat meat.

His growling stomach overcame his distaste on the third day, but they had to be careful not to eat much. There weren’t many supplies, and no time to stop to hunt or search out fruits and berries.

During the long hours in the air, Sokka tried to reach out to his soulmate, but the door in his mind remained firmly closed. Why had he spent so long picturing and reinforcing an iron door? Why hadn't he thought of something with windows or glass? Something breakable?

The heat which always seemed to radiate out from the other side of the door seemed to be dimming, too.

He imagined himself standing right at the door, calling at the top of his lungs to the other side: _I’m coming. Hold on. I'm coming._

There wasn’t an answer.

* * *

"Do you know where exactly your soulmate is?" Melaan asked on their fourth day. “Like, which island exactly?”

They had to be close to the Fire Nation now because it was _hot_. Sokka had shed his coat and was still sweating through his tunic. They'd landed on a tiny island and Pokey was browsing the green green grass. (There was so much of it, more than at the height of summer in the tundra, and it was fall… How could everything be this green?)

"The palace, I think?” He spread out the map, which luckily had the basics marked down. The capital and the palace were marked on the largest in the archipelago, Caldera Island. “That's where he was before. How big could it be?"

Turned out, plenty big. They spent the next day flying as high as Pokey could go—so high that the air was cold again and sometimes it was hard for Sokka to catch his breath. Far, far below stretched islands both big and small. Then, finally, Caldera Island appeared as a vast jungle, rolling on and on. The largest of them all.

Melaan waited until nightfall—and Sokka couldn't blame her, really, but he also wanted to tear out his hair in frustration. The door in his mind was cold to the touch.

They overflew Caldera Island, which turned out to be a giant volcano—of course. Sokka looked down over the side of the saddle, his eyes dazzled by hundreds of lights and fires, and felt his stomach sink. How in the world was he supposed to find one kid in all of this?

Pokey wasn't a fan of flying in the dark, and kept making low groans that sounded _loud_ in the still night air. Melaan sat on his head and murmured encouragement, rubbing the fur around his horns, but even she was looking strained. The fun and excitement of their adventure had faded. This was deadly serious.

At the edge of the great city in the middle of the (hopefully dead?) volcano was a cluster of very fancy buildings and even more blazing fires. Hopefully, this was the palace, itself. They hadn’t seen anywhere fancier.

Sokka had five—almost six days—to plan out what he was going to do, and although his mind had spun in useless circles, he knew this much: He couldn't put Melaan at risk any more than he already had.

"Land on one of the high roofs. That one!" He pointed to a dark splotch in the night.

Melaan did as Sokka asked, but then looked startled when Sokka slid off Pokey’s back. “What are you doing?”

“We won’t find Zuko by air. I have to go in and search on the ground. Stay here and keep Pokey quiet. I’ll be back before dawn.”

She looked around. "But this palace is huge. How will you find him?"

"Um... Soulmate powers?"

"You can do that?"

He shrugged. Only one way to find out. Either that or the fact he was Water Tribe would get him arrested and maybe brought in front of the Fire Lord for justice.

He wasn’t going to tell Melaan _that_ , though.

After dismounting, he reached for his belt where he kept Zuko’s dagger, and closed his eyes.

"Come on, Zuko. Now or never."

He pictured the iron door in every last detail, pictured himself resting his hand on the handle… It didn’t budge.

Sokka opened his eyes. Fine. He was adaptable. He would have to do this the other way.

There was an outside staircase that headed to the ground level. He crept down.

* * *

The Fire Nation had stark and severe architecture with not a lot of places to hide. Also—surprise, surprise— fire-lit torches were _everywhere_.

He had no idea where Melaan had landed him except that it some sort of complex like the Air Temple, only more evil looking. He darted from shadow to shadow, peeking in windows, sometimes hiding against walls when pairs of red-armored guards strolled past.

It seemed they would have been upset if their prince was sick or in mortal danger, but everyone looked bored, or tired. Sokka was little offended on Zuko’s behalf.

The moon was up and he thought it was close to midnight. What if he couldn't find him at all?

 _Then I'll try again tomorrow_ , he thought, slipping into a likely building.

Everything from the steps to the stupid long hallways seemed bigger than it should be. Sokka was well-grown for his age (Gran-gran always said so), but he had to reach to his tiptoes to look in any windows.

He turned a corner of a dark hallway and bumped into a large belly.

Had he been thinking, he would have apologized, acted like he had the right to be there. Been suave. But he had been on edge for the past few days. Tired, stressed, and sick with worry.

So instead, Sokka turned and ran.

The man was faster than he was. To his horror, a large hand closed around his arm, pulling him to a stop.

"This is not a good place for a street child,” the man said and spun him around.

 _I know him_ , Sokka thought. He had seen the man through Zuko's eyes before, the first time he had communicated with him. This man had clutched Zuko’s shoulders and called his name. Sokka didn’t remember seeing him around when Zuko was burned, though. Where had he been? Why hadn’t he protected Zuko from his awful father?

The old fat man looked almost as startled to see Sokka. He glanced over his shoulder. "Come," he said clipped and hustled Sokka along, just fast enough to avoid another patrol of guards.

It was then that Sokka realized the man was sneaking around the palace, too.

They ducked into a dark alcove. The guards passed, and the man gestured him to follow. Sokka hesitated, but at least he seemed to know where he was going, and he hadn’t been violent or creepy.

Cautiously, Sokka followed behind.

They turned further into the complex, one dark hallway after another. Then abruptly, into a dark room. Two more adults waited inside.

"Back so soon, Iroh?" one man said.

"There's been a complication." Abruptly, the fat man—Iroh—lit a handful of fire in his palm and pushed Sokka forward. "Why are your people here, Pakku?”

One of the men stepped into the firelight. With a shock, Sokka realized he was Water Tribe, too. But not someone he had ever seen before, which was weird. He knew _everyone_ in the tribe.

The other Tribesman seemed as taken aback to see him. "He's no half-blood. Look at his eyes. Well, boy? What is your house?"

"I... What?" Sokka stammered.

“Pakku,” the third man chastised. “You’re frightening him.”

Pakku only scowled as if Sokka was an idiot. “Who is your father?"

 _Lie,_ he thought because he was so deep into trouble that he couldn't even see the sky. "Bato, second to Chief Hakoda."

That visibly startled them all.

"What are the Butcher's men doing here?” Pakku asked.

“I didn't realize he had children among his warriors,” Iroh said, grave.

“Surely, he would not be insane enough to attack the palace directly,” said the third man. Now that Sokka's eyes had adjusted he realized he was a tall airbender in yellow robes and the tattoos of a master.

Suddenly, several things clicked into place. “You’re Northern Water Tribe?" Sokka asked to Pakku, but thought, _Butcher?_

"I am _Master_ Pakku, and you never answered my question, young man.”

Sokka balled his fists. "I came alone. I… I’m looking for someone."

"Oh? Who?"

Sokka pressed his lips together. Zuko had kept quiet even when his terrible father burned his face. He wasn’t going to rat him out.

The airbender stepped closer and peered down. He had expressive eyes like a polar-bear dog and a long face that reminded him a little of Melaan. "Iroh, he is the same age as your nephew."

Nephew. That was it. The fat man had to be Zuko’s uncle. In a desperate flash, Sokka blurted, “Do you know where Zuko is?"

There was a tense silence, and abruptly the airbender man started laughing—laughing so hard he leaned against Pakku, who scowled. "I don't see what's so funny about this."

The airbender cackled. “We had every airbender girl watched like a sparrow-hawk, you convinced Arnook to sequester Yue away just in case, and here a Water Tribe boy comes sailing in on his own… One of the Butcher's people, no less."

No doubt about it. They were talking about his father. He felt cold all through. “Don't call him that!"

A touch on his shoulder and Sokka turned. Iroh looked grave. "What is your name?"

"Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe.” _And my Dad isn’t a butcher_ , he added to himself. Then, quieter in a prayer to the spirits, _I hope_.

"Sokka,” Iroh said. “I believe Zuko once gifted his soulmate a weapon. Do you know what that is?”

In answer, Sokka reached to his belt holster and drew the pearl-hilted dagger. He barely registered Iroh’s quick indrawn breath.

“Zuko’s here?” Sokka demanded. “Is he okay?" At this plaintive question, the airbender stopped looking so merry.

Iroh gazed down at him. “Zuko is gravely injured, as I'm sure you know."

“But where is he? Ozai said I had to come. I… I didn't know what else to do."

Iroh knelt, hands on Sokka’s shoulders. “Sokka, this is important. Is the rest of your tribe here?"

"No, I came by myself."

Pakku stepped forward. ”Iroh, you cannot put your nephew in the hands of Chief Hakoda."

Sokka didn’t know exactly what was going on, but it was easy to see that these old men didn’t like his father. He shook his head. “I’m not with Hakoda. I, uh, have a friend we can take him to—“ He stopped, remembering at the last second that the Air Temple was supposed to be secret. But there was an airbender here, so did that make it all right to tell? He fumbled for a moment. “There’s a waterbender back home who can heal. I’m going to take him back there.” Which was only a little bit of a lie…

Suddenly the airbender did not look as amused. He reached over and plucked a white hair from Sokka's shoulder. Pokey, it seemed was shedding from the heat. "Well, it seems we were not the only ones with the idea to fly Prince Zuko out of danger tonight. Who came with you?"

"Melaan," Sokka admitted.

The airbender choked.

Pakku laughed outloud at him. “This is why I did not have any children.”

“That foolish girl. She’s not old enough to earn her arrows, and she comes to the Fire Nation?!” The airbender straightened and then shot a look to Iroh. “I’m sorry, my friend. I cannot help break your nephew out— I must make sure my daughter is safe.”

Sokka cringed. Whoops.

Iroh looked at his friend. "I understand, Tensoon."

Pakku ran a hand down his face. “Great, that leaves us one less fighting man in one of the most dangerous places in the spirits blighted _Fire Nation_. Please tell me you at least found out where they are keeping the boy.”

“Yes.” Iroh’s face was grim. “He has been declared a traitor and been moved to a secure cell within the Capitol Prison.”

“Prison?” Pakku scoffed. “For an eleven-year-old boy? Your people are insane.”

“But we’re going to get him out, right?” Sokka demanded.

Tucking his hands within the sleeves of his robes, Iroh nodded. “Yes, but I fear it will not be easy. Zuko has been… grievously injured, and the royal physician has been barred from seeing him. His wounds have been left untreated.”

Sokka felt himself pale. The cold iron door…

Pakku fixed a disfavored gaze on Sokka. “You don’t have the look of a waterbender.”

In answer, he grabbed his boomerang that always sat on his hip. “I’m a warrior,” he said. “And once we break him out, Zuko will fight, too.”

“Oh? Half-dead from infection?”

“That’s enough,” Iroh snapped with enough force to make both Sokka and Pakku jump. “I intend to get my nephew out tonight, Pakku, with or without your help.”

Again the Northern Tribesman scowled. “I’ve come too far not to spit in the Fire Lord’s eye, but I do hope you have a better plan than simply storming in the front gates.”

At this, Iroh’s lips twitched up in a smile. “There is more than one way inside of a prison.”

* * *

Iroh's plan was just insane enough for Sokka to admire.

It started with a lift from Tensoon’s bison, which was fully twice as large as Melaan’s. Tensoon also had his bison roll in mud and a dark type of foliage that stained its fur, camouflaging him and making him all but invisible in the night air.

Melaan met them at the top of a very large tower, Pokey now similarly camouflaged. Sokka didn’t hear what Tensoon had said to his daughter, but both girl and bison looked much chastened.

"The most valuable prisoners are kept on the top floor," Iroh said once they all assembled on the rooftop. "There will be imperial guards stationed at intervals along each floor and along checkpoints. The main concentration will be at the one exit at ground level.” He smiled in a way that showed teeth, but did not look particularly friendly. Like a dragon. “So we will come at them from above.”

There was another man who met them on the rooftop; tall, thin, and swarthy. He looked calm but ready, and spoke to the others as an equal. "Iroh, what are these children doing here?"

"The girl is Melaan, Tensoon’s daughter. And this boy is the other half to Zuko's heart." Iroh quickly turned to Sokka. "Sokka, this is Master Piandao.”

Piandao frowned down at Sokka. "Surely you do not intend for him to assist with the rescue."

Iroh closed his eyes, pained. "He is in as much danger as Zuko."

Sokka bristled. "I can help!”

Pakku spoke up. "We will probably have to fight our way out. At the very least, he's another set of hands to help. Iroh is right—if the little prince dies tonight, so does this boy.”

“It works the other way around, too.” Piandao stepped to Sokka. "Give me your hand."

Automatically, Sokka held out his right hand. As he did, Piandao gripped his wrist hard as if testing the strength of his tendons, and ran a callous finger over his palm. "You are a fighter.”

"Yes, I am!” He hated how high and childish his voice sounded. He lifted his boomerang. "I can hit a rabbit squirrel at a hundred paces, too."

A smile spread across Piandao’s dark features. "I'm sure you can.” Then he nodded his approval.

That seemed to be what the other masters were waiting for.

Upon Tensoon’s giant bison were several wooden barrels. Sokka did not know what they were for until Pakku gestured to one and the liquid exploded out in a crashing wave, the water rippling smoothly through the air.

Pakku was a waterbender. Sokka quickly picked his jaw up off the floor. It was a little sad that he had grown up in the Water Tribe, but had never met a fully trained waterbender until today. Katara was going to be green with jealousy.

With a step and a graceful sweep, Pakku threw the water out over the side of the building in a wide ribbon, which instantly froze to hard ice. He jumped down upon it, skating along the ice effortlessly over the edge of the building and following the ribbon down.

He had made a slide out of ice. A slide that the others intended to use.

Piandao calmly stepped on the top, ducked to a crouch, and slid down. Then it was Sokka's turn.

 _It's just like penguin sledding_ , he told himself, sitting down on the ice before shoving off. _Only off the side of a building…_

He held his breath so he didn't scream.

The ice ramp dipped horribly, sickeningly, and then curled around in a graceful angle wide enough on both sides that he did not go flying off. It corkscrewed around and abruptly turned back to end at the sill of an open window.

Sokka fell into an empty office, complete with bookcases and a wooden desk. Master Pakku stood near the closed door listening for signs that they had been discovered. Sokka scrambled out of the way right before Iroh landed in the place where he had been.

As Sokka stood, he realized he felt something utterly new. A strange sensation, like a distant tug on his heart. As if a silent voice whispered: _He's here. He's close_.

And he was really, really sick.

Sokka didn't realize he had curled inward, hand pressed desperately over his heart until Pakku rasped, “Hold it together, boy.”

“Zuko’s close—on this level, I think.” With effort, Sokka straightened. _Hold on_ , he thought but wasn’t sure if Zuko was capable of hearing him. _Just hold on a little longer…_

Iroh squeezed Sokka’s shoulder. "Stay behind us and keep low. Pakku, you guard the door.”

Then, silently, Iroh and Piandao exchanged a nod. Piandao kicked open the door, but Iroh was the first to rush out, a literal wall of fire preceding him. Immediately, there were shouts. Alarm bells began to ring. Piandao was out next, a beautiful sword unsheathed.

He was not a bender at all, Sokka realized with a start. But he fought toe-to-toe with them, as equals.

Pakku glanced down at him. "Hurry up, boy. It's now or never."

Feeling small and scared, but determined, Sokka gripped his boomerang in one hand and darted into the hallway. There were downed men in red uniforms on both sides, and a smell of cooked meat that made him want to throw up. Iroh and Piandao had already hurried on ahead.

The sounds and fire, fighting, and the tugging on his heart told him where to go. He turned the corner and arrived just in time to see the end of the battle; Piandao ducked under a sweep of fire and run through a firebender with his sword.

With a quick economy of movement, Piandao took the keys from the downed men and flipped them over to Iroh. "There will be more coming up the stairwell. Get him out. I'll cover your retreat.”

Then he charged down the hall, leaving Iroh and Sokka standing in front of a heavy locked door.

Iroh struggled with the ring of keys. He seemed to have trouble with them as if his eyes had been dazzled by the bright flashes of fire and he could not pick out enough details to find the right one.

Sokka stepped in and took a key that looked to be the right size and jammed it into the lock. It turned and the door opened wide.

The room beyond was pitch black, without a torch or a window to provide any light. Iroh rushed in and the flame that flickered over his palm showed a bare, cold stone room. A single slab of metal bolted to the wall functioned as a bed. A small figure lay there, his back to the door, unmoving.

For the last five days, all of Sokka’s energy had been focused on reaching Zuko. Now, standing frozen at the door, it hit him anew that his soulmate was Fire Nation. The enemy _and_ a boy who had suffered because of Sokka.

What if Zuko hated him? How could he not?

“Nephew.” Kneeling, Iroh touched Zuko’s shoulder. The other boy cringed and curled up tight. There was something wrapped around his head like a strange hat. When Iroh tried to roll him around, Sokka saw that the bottom of his shirt had been ripped and the fabric tied around the side of his head to act like a clumsy bandage.

Iroh said Zuko had no healer. He must have tried to bandage himself.

In the flickering firelight, Iroh’s expression was grim. He glanced up briefly to Sokka, who had still not fully stepped inside the cell, and back again. “Zuko, Sokka is here for you.”

 _He doesn’t know my name_ , Sokka wanted to say, but Zuko shivered as if it had meaning to him anyway.

Uncurling, Zuko turned. His uncovered golden eye was glazed with sickness and pain, but he looked at Sokka and… Oh.

 _Oh, there he is_ , Sokka thought nonsensically, but at the same time _everything_ was familiar about Zuko. Like Sokka had known him all his life. Knew him to the core. Good, bad, and all. His best friend, confidant, closer than a brother.

Zuko mumbled something and reached his hand out to him.

In a flash, Sokka closed the distance. His hand slid against Zuko’s, fingers curling tightly around one another. Sokka gazed at him, at his face, wondrous and familiar at the same time.

Zuko was burning up with fever, and it was the easiest thing in the world to take some of the burden onto himself. It hurt, but Sokka was strong enough to give him whatever strength he needed to beat back the infection raging under the bandage.

“Hey," Sokka said.

"Hey," Zuko rasped, unfocused gaze fixed to him.

The renewed sounds of fighting down the hall broke the moment.

“We don’t have much time,” Iroh said. “Prince Zuko, can you walk?”

In answer, Sokka stood, lending his strength to help the other boy to stand. Pain and dizziness shot through them both, but Sokka was strong enough to bear it. Zuko leaned heavily on him, head on Sokka’s shoulder. His skin was so hot it felt like a brand.

He was barely conscious, but Sokka sensed he had not given up yet — would never give up as long as there was breath in his body.

Iroh held out his hands as if ready to help but dropped them back to his sides. Sokka did not understand the flash of pain he saw there.

“We gotta hurry,” Sokka said through grit teeth. He wasn’t sure how long they could stay like this.

Zuko was not quite dead weight. But it was all he could do to move his legs and help walk along.

“Come on, Zuko,” Sokka said. “One step at a time.”

The other boy nodded weakly against him.

Sokka wasn't sure how they made it back to the little office down the long hallway. There were more sounds of fighting behind them and at one point Iroh had to peel off to help Piandao. Then, he and Zuko staggered through the Warden’s office and Pakku was hustling them over to the window.

Pokey the bison was hovering at the window. Melaan sat on his head, face pinched and scared. In the sky beyond, Tensoon’s and his bison were distracting Fire Nation archers below, battling back their arrows with fierce gusts of wind.

Sokka and Zuko more or less fell into the saddle, landing hard. The shock of agony made them both cry out in pain, but Sokka didn't let go of Zuko for a moment, curling around to protect him from any stray arrows.

Melaan called, “Yip-Yip!” and they were up into the sky and away.

“Where we going?” Sokka yelled over the sound of the wind.

Melaan didn't answer. They climbed higher and higher into the thin air. It was cold — too cold for Zuko, even though he was burning so hot.

Sokka crawled over and grabbed one of the spare blankets, drawing it over them both. Zuko tucked up against him as if he were freezing.

"They're going to find you… I told him you’re Fire Nation. You gotta hide," Zuko muttered nonsensically and Sokka realized that he was partially delirious. “They killed the others— I'm not a traitor.…"

“Maybe you should be. The Fire Nation is awful,” Sokka said. “But you’re safe now. We’re taking you to my people.”

He wanted to crawl over the side of the saddle and see how the fight was going, but leaving Zuko was unthinkable.

Eventually, Pokey landed. With a groan, Tensoon’s larger bison landed beside him. Iroh, Piandao, and Pakku were all on board. None looked injured, though for some reason Pakku had a heat rash on his forehead.

Piandao neatly vaulted into Pokey’s saddle as if he had not been fighting to the death a few minutes before. He pushed the blanket back and felt Zuko’s pulse before putting the back of his hand to his forehead.

He exchanged a look dark look with Iroh, who carefully began to unwind the makeshift bandage around Zuko’s head. For the first time, Sokka caught the ruins of the left half of Zuko's face. It was a mess of red and yellow blisters, shot through with black dead skin. The area around his eye was so swollen it wasn’t visible.

Melaan gasped and looked away, burying her head against her father’s side.

“Is he going to be okay?" Sokka asked, sounding very small.

No one answered him directly.

“We can clean it," Iroh said. “The Fire Nation has ways of healing burns. Ointments and salves.”

Pakku looked very stern. “Perhaps, if the boy received medical attention from the start. Only a waterbending healer has a chance of helping him now.”

Sokka’s breath caught. He gripped Zuko’s hand tightly. The other boy didn’t twitch. He wasn’t asleep—his breathing was too rapid—but he wasn’t conscious enough to be aware, either.

“He has a soulmate,” Iroh shot back. “Sokka can lend him his health.”

Piandao shot Sokka a quick look. “Yes, he has a _Water Tribe_ soulmate.”

“I will not put him in the hands of Hakoda.”

“He will not make it to the North Pole—“ Pakku started.

Sokka couldn’t take it anymore. “My sister’s a waterbender. She’s at the… the air temple around there,” he added with an apologetic look to Tensoon. “He can make it that far, right?”

Piandao put a hand on Iroh’s shoulder and squeezed. “My friend, you have done all you can. Zuko’s destiny is with his soulmate. We must trust in this."

“I will accompany them—“ Iroh started.

Tensoon shook his head. “No outsiders are allowed in the air temples. Not even White Lotus. I am curious to know why Monk Orser has allowed Water Tribe children passage, but it means Zuko will be out of the Butcher’s hands.”

At last, Iroh seemed to give up. Grieved, he rested a hand on his nephew’s shoulder “I should have taken him from the Fire Nation the moment Ozai put him in my hands.”

“What's done is done,” Pakku replied with a little less venom than usual, “But we can’t stay here talking about it. The boy needs a healer. Sokka, you must lend him any strength you can.”

“I will.”

At last, Iroh dropped his hand from Zuko’s shoulder. His voice was rough. “Take care of my Nephew.”

“I will,” Sokka repeated, and silently added, _He’s the other half of my heart._

Pakku, Piandao, and Iroh slipped from Pokey’s saddle to the jungle floor. They were well away from the palace. Sokka supposed they knew how to stay out of trouble.

Then, with a gigantic leap, Pokey fit himself in the saddle of Tensoon’s bison. Then, carrying both the baby bison and the passengers, Tensoon’s bison lifted into the air with powerful sweeps of his tail.

“The airstream we need is high up,” Tensoon called to Melaan. “You must help them breathe.”

“Okay!” Melaan called back and started to make movements as if she were kneading the air. Sokka's ears popped as the pressure in his ears equalized.

He hunkered down again under the blanket. Zuko curled in at Sokka's touch, his breath spilling across Sokka's collarbone.

Closing his eyes, Sokka willed himself to give whatever strength he could to the other boy.

While touching, there was no door separating them.

He breathed out, picturing his strength and health flowing into Zuko and taking some of his pain and illness on the inhale. His own heart picked up pace as Zuko’s slowed down. A flush of sweat prickled Sokka’s forehead, but that was okay. He could stand being feverish for a while if it brought Zuko's own raging fever down.

His face hurt with a swollen, too-hot sensation. His left eye stung. Sokka lifted his own hand to rub at his cheek, but felt nothing wrong. It wasn’t his discomfort.

With a sigh, he tightened his arms around the other boy and brought him close.

“You’re going to be okay,” he murmured. “Once you feel better, I’ll show you all around the air temple. The monks and nuns are really nice. We can go fishing, and penguin sledding… I’ll let you borrow my best canoe. You just gotta focus on getting better, okay?”

The night seemed to stretch on and yet take no time at all. The next thing he knew, it was morning. He woke at the sudden downward shift if the bison and Melaan’s glad cry.

The air was icy cold—colder than he had ever felt in his life. Even under the blanket, Sokka shivered. He wanted to sit up and look around, but it was as if all the energy had been leeched out of him.

And Zuko was looking at him, his visible golden eye bright with fever, but lucid and vaguely confused.

“Hey,” he said, feeling his mouth pull into a smile. “I’m Sokka. Nice to meet you.”

“Prince Zuko,” he replied, with a hint of snobbery. “Have I been kidnapped?”

“I’d call it a rescue—“

At that moment, Tensoon’s exhausted bison landed with a hard thud, and then the world rocked around them as Pokey jumped from the elder bison’s saddle, landing ungracefully on the ground.

Agony lanced through them both. Sokka held Zuko tight as he grit his teeth through the pain.

Tensoon’s voice boomed out, aided by airbending, “Healers! I have sick children here!”

Sick children? Zuko was the one who was sick. Had something happened to Melaan, too? Sokka tried to look around, but exhaustion sucked at him as if he were trapped in a fluffy, sticky pit of snow. The world faded in and out and he sank back down, shivering with fever.

Adult hands reached for him. They were pulling him and Zuko away from one another.

Both boys cried out in protest and tried to hold tight to each other, but it was no use. They were sick and weak.

Sokka caught Zuko’s nonsensical thought— _air assassins, they’re gonna kill us!_ —before the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my Tumblr for Avatar stuff, memes, and fanfic rambling.  
> awesomeavocadolove.tumblr.com


	9. Chapter 9

_My eye! They’re going to take my eye!_

The scream sawed through Sokka’s heart and mind, jerking him out of a dead sleep. He sat bolt upright in his bed with a gasp.

Wait, how did he get in his bed? The last thing he remembered was falling asleep next to Zuko in the bison saddle. Did they land?

They must have because several Air Nomads stood near Sokka’s bed. One—Tensoon— reached out as if console him, but Sokka knocked his hand away. In the next second he had pushed back the blankets was pelting down the hall.

He was not in the normal novice dormitories where he kept his bed. Instead, he seemed to be in the cubicles the adult monks and nuns normally used. Sokka had explored these halls only one time before. It was underground in worn cave-like structures close to the source of heat that kept everyone from freezing.

He didn’t know his way by heart, but Zuko’s fear drew him forward. He didn’t make one wrong turn and skidded to a stop right before Zuko’s room. “I’m here! I–”

No one heard him over the noise in the room.

Monk Orser and Nun Diki were trying to subdue a hysterical Zuko.

Nothing was on fire, not yet, but Zuko was screaming, “You’re not taking my eye!” and thrashing while the adults tried to push him back down to the bed.

That was more than enough for Sokka. He rushed in. “Don’t touch him!”

He thought he heard Monk Orser yell, “Sokka, no!”

Zuko reached out instinctively, and Sokka clasped his hand in a firm grip, pulling him upright.

Someone had seen to Zuko’s injuries while Sokka had been asleep. A new, snow-white bandage wound around the left side of his head leaving only one uncovered golden eye. It looked like they’d shaved his head bare to do it, so that he now resembled the monks. His skin was blazing hot to the touch. The quick-flash impressions Sokka received from Zuko’s mind were confused, angry, and terrified.

He took all this in within a second. In the next, Sokka yanked the other boy around and stepped in front of him, blocking the path between Zuko and the adults.

Monk Orser let out an annoyed huff. “Sokka, you should not be here right now.”

“What else did you expect to happen?” Tensoon demanded, stepping into the room as well. He sounded frustrated. “Zuko is terrified. Of course the other half of his heart would feel it.”

“Sokka?” Zuko’s whisper was barely audible over the sound of squabbling adults. He stood behind Sokka, holding onto his shoulder to steady himself. Through the link, Sokka felt Zuko’s confusion—partly from fever and partly from finding himself in a new place surrounded by people he didn’t trust. “The airbenders captured you, too?”

“You weren’t captured,” Sokka told him in a low undertone. “They helped rescue you from the Fire Nation.”

Zuko sucked in a breath. “They’re going to take out my eye. I heard them.”

Air nomad adults never really yelled at one another, but Diki, Tensoon, and Orser were getting snappy in a way Sokka had never heard from them before. 

Nun Diki was especially upset. “I was very clear that Sokka should sleep himself out.”

“Diki, the boy woke from a dead sleep—”

She spoke over Tensoon. “Now I have two patients to worry over. We can douse Zuko with poppy to make it painless, but Sokka will still feel the surgery. I can’t douse him, too. He is the one carrying the weight of health for them both.”

“You’re not taking out his eye,” Sokka said, raising his voice.

The adults stopped and glanced at one another.

Orser sighed. “I’m afraid we don’t have a choice.”

Diki stepped forward, her tone turning gentle. “Zuko is very, very sick. He is not feeling it right now because he is drawing his strength from you, Sokka.”

Sokka didn’t need her to tell him how sick Zuko was. He felt… wobbly, like he was standing due to stubbornness alone. There was a raspy edge to his breathing that didn’t sound right at all.

“I’ll be fine,” Zuko said in a raspy whisper. Sokka doubted anyone else could hear him.

Sokka lifted his chin. “He doesn’t want your surgery.”

“Ask him if he can see out of his left eye right now,” Diki said.

“I can,” Zuko insisted, though Sokka knew that was a lie.

Sokka swallowed.

“Sokka,” Orser said. “Diki is our best healer. Please listen to her.”

“You’ve done everything you could to bring him here, but the burn has become infected. It’s already taken root in his eye,” Diki continued, still in that gentle tone of voice. “If we do not address it soon, it will more than likely spread to the other eye, and he will be completely blinded.”

Fear shot through Sokka and he felt his resolve waver.

 _She’s lying_ , Zuko thought.

 _Why?_ Sokka thought back.

_Why? Because he is an Air Nomad. She hates me. She–_

Zuko’s mental voice faltered as Sokka’s disbelief filtered through his the link.

 _They’re monks and nuns_ , Sokka thought. _They don’t hate anyone._

_They should. I’m Fire Nation. I’m their enemy. Sokka… please… don’t let them do this._

The back and forth took a blink of time, quick as thought.

Zuko was slumping and desperately trying not to. His fingers curled in the back of Sokka’s shirt, his forehead pressed to Sokka’s shoulder blade, propping himself against him to stay upright.

_Okay, fine. Maybe they’re nice, but please don’t let them do it. I can’t firebend with one eye. I’ll never be a good swordsman…_

_You won’t be if you’re blind, either_ , Sokka thought.

_They don’t know that will happen for sure._

Just as Zuko’s mind was changed by Sokka’s certainty that the air nomads did not mean him any harm, Sokka’s hesitance over Zuko’s keeping the eye changed, too.

He looked at the adults squarely. “He doesn’t want you to take out his eye. I … I can give him strength, like I did on the way here. As much as he needs.” He could take it all—everything that Sokka had in him, if that was what was needed.

The adults didn’t seem convinced. The only looked pitying, and Zuko was slumping against him…

“Katara!” Sokka blurted. “You let her see Zuko, right?”

“Who?” Tensoon asked.

“My sister,” Sokka said in exasperation. “She’s the waterbender I told you about.”

Tensoon looked at Orser. “You told me the girl was only a child.”

“She is.” Orser pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was getting a headache. “And completely untrained.”

Sokka, meanwhile, could not believe what he was hearing. “You haven’t even let her try?”

“She is a child—” Orser started.

Tensoon cut across him. “Diki? What do you think?”

The nun pursed her lips. “Normally, I would never allow such a thing… but at this point, there is not much damage she could do.” She looked at Sokka. “I will bring your sister in and see if she can help. But if her healing does not work, you must let us attempt the surgery. Sokka, I know he doesn’t want to hear this but he is already blind in that eye. We are trying to save his vision on the other one.”

“I understand,” Sokka said, which was not the same as ‘I accept,’ or ‘I’ll let you do it.’

Zuko snorted softly, picking up on the wording. 

Diki didn’t seem to notice or care. “Then lets get Zuko back into bed. Yes, you can stay with him. I see now that separating you two was never going to work.”

Zuko staggered and almost fell completely when he tried to avoid Diki’s reaching hands. Sokka twisted and caught him, more out of instinct than skill. 

Somehow, they managed to get him back into the bed before he collapsed. Sokka crawled under the covers with him. The heat rolling off of Zuko made him break out in a sweat immediately, but he didn’t care.

Diki fussed with some medicines on the other side of the room while Orser and Tensoon went to fetch Katara.

“I thought… I thought I dreamed you up,” Zuko muttered, low. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“You should be with your tribe, but they’re keeping you here because of me.”

“No–” He started to say, but Zuko squeezed his hand sharply. “Okay, maybe,” Sokka corrected, wondering when the heck Zuko had picked that up from his mind. “But it’s not bad here at the temple. The nomads are weird, but kind of nice.”

Zuko’s snort spoke his opinion on that.

“How does my face look?” he asked, after a moment.

He hesitated. “Not too bad with the bandage on.”

“It’s not that bad,” Sokka said.

Zuko turned and gave him a look. “I can… read your thoughts.”

“There’s supposed to be a door to keep that from happening…” But the door didn’t seem to exist when they were touching.

Zuko didn’t seem to hear him. He was drifting off, muttering “… Everything’s gone wrong…”

“No, it hasn’t. I met you, haven’t I?”

There was the sound of light, rapid footsteps. then Katara rounded the corner, squealing at the sight of Sokka.

Zuko jerked back but could not avoid receiving a hug from a very excited eight-year-old.

“You’re back! And you must be Zuko! Hi! They wouldn’t let me see either of you. They said you needed ‘quiet time’ even though I knew you were sick—”

“Katara…” Diki warned, “your brother is very tired from supporting his soulmate, and others are sleeping down the hall. Keep your voice down.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” She backed off, though her grin was still bright.

Zuko just stared. Sokka got the impression he was thinking that he never understood girls.

“I’ve been practicing my waterbending every moment I could, and Orser said I can try to heal for real.”

 _What is she going to do?_ Zuko thought warily. Sokka was hit with impressions of evilly smiling little girls and the smell of burned animal meat.

 _She’s not like that,_ he thought and aloud, added, “Katara can heal with waterbending.”

“I’m the only waterbender in the whole South Pole,” Katara added, and her tone took on a bossy air it did when she was trying to imitate Gran-Gran. “So you’re very lucky you are my brother’s soulmate. Sokka, help me with these bandages.”

Diki stepped in to assist, and the only reason Zuko allowed it was because Sokka was guarding his blind side.

Together, they unrolled the bandages layer by layer to reveal the burn.

Katara’s expression fell, and her eyes welled up with horrified tears. “Oh no…”

The worst of the dead skin had been scrubbed away, but Zuko’s skin was red and raw, with new yellow and orange blisters, especially thick around the edges and up his temple. His eye was completely swollen shut. 

Zuko had to grit his teeth against the feel of air against the raw skin—pain that Sokka felt, too. He winced, covering the side of his head.

“Ow, owww,” he whined, wishing there was snow or ice in here so he could press his head against it. But his discomfort was only a fraction of what Zuko felt. He was in so much pain he was practically beyond it.

“It’s hurting you, too?” Katara gasped.

“A little, but it’s worse for him!” Sokka snapped. “Do something!”

That seemed to snap her out of it. “Oh, sorry! Let me just—Waterbending is amazing. You’ll see.” Then she popped open the cork on the water skin she kept by her side. She gestured and an unsteady ribbon of water flowed out.

“You can save my eye?” Zuko rasped.

“I…” Katara swallowed, her voice shaking. “I’ll try. This is going to feel cold,” she warned, voice shaking.

“Katara,” Diki said. “Remember what we told you: Be calm and take deep breaths. I’m sure whatever you can do will be a help.”

Which meant the adults didn’t expect her to do much at all. Sokka noticed that Orser and Tensoon had not returned, either. Cowards.

He bent to speak next to Zuko’s good ear. “People are always underestimating Katara, but she’s amazing.”

Zuko nodded weakly. “Just… just get this over with.”

“Wow, you’re welcome.” Despite her waspish words, Katara bit her lip, visibly nervous. Zuko laid back on the pillow, his burned side up. He seemed completely calm, but under the blankets his hands clasped Sokka’s with white-knuckled strength.

Katara stepped closer, the ribbon of water between her hands. “Can you open the eye?”

“No,” Sokka said, answering for him. “Just give it your best shot..”

And if this didn’t work, they would think of something else. Maybe… maybe he could give Zuko one of his eyes, but then that would leave Sokka with only one eye for himself. Plus, Zuko would have one gold and one blue eye, which made no sense…

 _You’re ridiculous_ , Zuko thought, but there was a hint of a laugh in his mental voice. I’m not taking one of your eyes.

“It’s a gift,” Sokka shot back. “And in the Water Tribe, you can’t decline gifts. It’s rude.”

“So, I’m rude.”

“Um.” Katara looked between them. “What?”

“Nothing,” Sokka said. “Are you going to do the magic or not?”

Katara nodded and eased the water down.

Both boys flinched when the cold water touched the burn–the same sharp pain spiking through them both.

Then Katara let out a breath and the water began to glow.

Sokka had no idea what Katara was doing, if anything, and privately thought she didn’t know either. But as Diki said, at this point it couldn’t hurt.

“This is really bad,” Katara said, absently.

Zuko snorted but made no comment. Sokka squeezed his hand.

After a few minutes, Katara said, “Okay, try to open your eye.”

Between all the glowing water and the swelling, Sokka couldn’t tell what was going on. But he felt Zuko’s start of surprise when he was able to blink his left eye open for the first time in days.

By this time, Diki had come closer to peer over Katara’s shoulder. “Can you pull your water away for a moment, dear?”

Katara did. The burn was still raw and red, but it looked… older. The swelling was much reduced.

Zuko blinked several times. The lens over his left eye was cloudy and dull.

“Can you see anything, Zuko?” Diki asked.

Zuko didn’t answer, reaching up to his face. Sokka caught his hand. Zuko blinked sudden tears away.

“Blurry shapes,” Sokka said, answering for him.

“That is very good,” Diki said soothingly. “Katara, can you continue please?”

“Okay.” Katara stepped forward with much more confidence. “There is a lot of bad energy around your eye. I’m going to try to wash out it, but it might hurt. Keep your eye open.”

Sokka held both Zuko’s hands in his own as stabbing pain shot through his eye to the back of his head.

A pained noise snuck past Sokka’s lips.

Katara wavered, starting to pull back.

“No, keep going,” Sokka said quickly.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” She sounded horrified.

“Katara, I’m _fine_. It will hurt worse if they gotta remove the eye.”

That seemed to convince her. Pressing her lips together, she concentrated, swirling the glowing water back and forth over Zuko’s face.

For his part, Zuko drifted in and out of consciousness, but when he was awake he didn’t complain. Not even when Katara had to stop several times to change the water after it became cloudy with bits of dead skin.

Finally, the water seemed to fall apart in her hands. Clumsily, Katara caught it at the last moment before it soaked Sokka or Zuko.

“I don’t think I can do anymore for a while,” she said, looking pale and drawn. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Sokka, I don’t think I can make the skin look normal again. There's too much gone. It's gonna scar up.”

Sokka felt a lump grow in his throat. “You’ve done a really good job though. It looks a lot better.”

“You have quite the gift,” Diki agreed quietly. “Zuko? How are you feeling?”

Zuko stirred and blinked open his eye. The place where his eyebrow should be was gone, the skin stiff nerveless. The eye was a little duller than the other as if there was a film there. Still blinking, he held up his hand in front of his left side.

Not as good as before, but it was much better. And it no longer hurt. 

“I can see,” he croaked and looked up in wonder at Katara. “You did it.”

She beamed. “I told you waterbending was amazing.”

Diki moved closer, a small clay pot in her hands. “You made a lot of progress today–I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself, but the burn will need much more care. Zuko, are you comfortable with me putting on this salve? No? Then you must do it, Sokka. Slather it on thick and rewrap with these bandages here. I’ll take your sister to her room. She will need a rest after all her hard work.”

As the nun ushered Katara out, Sokka sniffed the salve in the clay pot experimentally. It had the astringent smell of medicine. “Smell’s gross, but I think that means it’s good for you.”

Zuko nodded. Through their link, Sokka could feel how much he wanted to stay awake, but how desperately exhausted he was.

He stayed silent as Sokka smeared salve on and wrapped the bandage.

“Go to sleep,” Sokka said. “I’ll keep watch if you want.”

Zuko’s hand found his own again. “Wake me up if anyone comes in? I don’t trust that old monk.”

“Orser? He’s okay once you get to know him.”

Zuko shook his head and Sokka felt a thread of his fear run through them both.

“All right,” Sokka said. “No one will hurt you as long as I’m here.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Zuko nodded, eyes already half-closed.

 _I’m glad you found me_ , he thought before he slipped off completely into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my Tumblr for Avatar stuff, memes, and fanfic rambling.  
> awesomeavocadolove.tumblr.com


End file.
